


A Love/Hate Relationship

by TheCamusTheory



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - You've Got Mail Fusion, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Guitarist Lance (Voltron), Inspired by She Loves Me (Musical), M/M, Musicians, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pen Pals, Pianist Keith (Voltron), but not archaic, hidden identity, message pals, they know each other but they don't know it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28005204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCamusTheory/pseuds/TheCamusTheory
Summary: K and L have been messaging each other for two years. While they both feel they know the other to the core of their being, there are things they don't know, like each other's names.Keith and Lance meet by chance at a local open mic. They hate each other.Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how many more times I will do this throughout the fic, but I decided for this first chapter, the songs Keith and Lance play will be actual songs that I like by songwriters on youtube, so here are the links for those! I will put these at the end too, and if anyone knows how to hyperlink in the text, I would gladly add links in the story as well!
> 
> Keith's song: https://youtu.be/k4wXcyV3hI0 A Song to Exist To by Going Spaceward  
> Lance's song: https://youtu.be/8m5eXpJn1B8 I Don't Wanna Be In Love Anymore by Yad Zamani
> 
> This is all I have written for this story so far so I don't know how quickly the next chapter will be up, but I'm really excited for this story so hopefully soon!
> 
> Enjoy!

Dear friend,

My horoscope told me that “today is the day to embrace new horizons” and you told me that chasing dreams is the only way to go through life. So today, I’m doing just that. Scary new thing, here I come!

While avoiding details per our arrangement, I’ll just say I’m essentially going to bare my soul to a room full of strangers for their judgement. And yeah, it’s all your fault K, so you’d better wish me luck. Maybe I’ll pretend that one of those unfamiliar faces is yours, that you’re rooting for me like I know you’d be if we did meet. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to pick someone as pretty as you surely are ;)

As for your struggles with your undisclosed project, I’m sure you’ll have a breakthrough soon! Maybe take a walk to clear your head. Or better yet, get a rubber duck like engineers do and talk to it but pretend it’s me! I’m a great listener, and quite the muse ;)

If this is the last correspondence you ever receive from me, know that I’ve likely perished from nerves or embarrassment when I attempt my daring deed tonight, and know you have only yourself to blame for encouraging me.

Your friend,

L

Keith chuckles at L’s dramatics as he finishes reading his latest message. He doesn’t have a rubber duck on hand, but as he eyes the small stuffed hippo he still keeps in his room (even at 25 years old, what can he say, he’s sentimental), he considers L’s suggestion for his writer’s block. Keith had been working on the same song for hours last night when he finally gave up and messaged L to complain.

He doesn’t have time to reply right now, unfortunately, because he’s about to be late for the only regular commitment he has each week besides work. Grabbing his bag with his notebook and keys, Keith yells a goodbye to his dog Kosmo as he runs out of his apartment to his motorcycle.

******************************************************************************************************************************************

Lance pushes through the door of the restaurant, lugging his guitar case behind him. Tonight is the night. He looked up every open mic he could find in his area, and this one, other than simply being the easiest to get to, seemed like it had a very friendly vibe. The restaurant is an all-organic-food, rooftop-garden, rotating-local-art-for-sale-on-the-walls kind of hipster place and the back room where the weekly open mic is hosted feels intimate with a low stage and about 15 small tables in the space.

As Lance enters the room he immediately sees the hottest person he has ever beheld sitting alone in a table at the corner. It’s a guy with longer black hair that’s basically a mullet but somehow it totally works for him. Thick eyebrows scrunch low under his choppy bangs as he looks over a notebook on the table in front of him. He has a sharp jawline and a bad boy aura with the leather jacket and ripped jeans and Lance had never considered that he would be into that but the evidence sits before him only five paces away. If it were any other night, Lance would 100% be chatting this hottie up with his best lines. As it is, however, Lance is so nervous that it’s all he can do to look around the room for the sign-up sheet and add his name to the list.

_You could be my K_ , he thinks as he finds an empty table himself and settles his guitar case beside him. Mystery guy in the corner doesn’t seem to have an instrument with him, and Lance wonders if he’s just here to listen.

Thinking about people listening gets Lance’s nerves going again, so he pulls out his phone and opens the app he uses to message K. He scrolls back til he finds the message that led him here, the reason he finally got the guts to try sharing his music live with strangers.

Dear friend,

I understand fear of rejection, more than I can express to you through this message. But I also know you, L. I have no doubt in my mind that whatever it is you’re scared to do, you can overcome. It’s always going to be scary opening parts of ourselves up to others, but if we never do, then we’ll never know what could be.

Damn, that sounds really cheesy. But you know what I mean. If this is something you want, you have to try. And I’d be willing to bet that whatever this situation is, you’re selling yourself short. 

I know you’re going to face this fear of yours and you’re going to tell me all about it when you do. And I’m looking forward to it.

Your friend,

K

Lance practically has the message memorized with how many times he’s read it since receiving it two weeks ago. He wonders what K is doing tonight, and what it would be like if he was really here, cheering Lance on. Glancing back at Mystery guy again, he allows himself to imagine that he is K, and that this is something they’re doing together. Lance knows it’s just a fantasy though. He’s never met K, doesn’t know what he looks like, where he lives, or what he does, and he probably never will despite their daily correspondence. That’s the nature of their relationship, it’s part of what makes it special, and Lance is happy with it. Still, it’s nice to imagine that the hottie just a few tables away could be Lance’s good friend of two years now.

Just then, the host of the open mic steps up onto the stage, sign up sheet in hand.

“Hey everyone, thanks for coming out tonight to the open mic here at Common Ground.” The guy is so personable that Lance feels himself relax a bit despite the time to his performance drawing near. He signed up for the sixth slot on the list, and a quick glance around the room shows that there are 8 groups at the various tables. Around 20 people in the room if you count the employees, all listening and judging the song that Lance wrote, practiced, and carefully selected for this, his debut performance. Aaaand there are the nerves again.

Lance zones back in to the introduction right as the host introduces the first performer.

“and yeah, everyone just come up here and share what you’ve got and we’ll have a good time tonight! First up, if I can get Keith Kogane to set up on stage please.”

The host immediately turns and grabs an electric keyboard that’s off to the side, positioning it center stage. This Keith guy must be a regular if the host knows his set up without asking.

Just as the thought crosses Lance’s mind, Mystery hot guy walks past his table and up to the stage. The space is so intimately spaced that the guy’s leg practically brushes against Lance’s as he goes past.

_Ok, guess this was a good pick for K_ , Lance chuckles to himself at the coincidence (though he isn’t even sure if “k” is K’s first initial or if it stands for something else). The moment breaks some of Lance’s built up tension, and he feels more anticipation than nerves as this Keith gets set up at the keyboard, adjusting the mic to pick up his voice so everything’s comfortable.

“I’m Keith.” _Damn, even this guy’s voice fits his hot bad boy aesthetic_. There’s the slightest gravel to his speaking voice that Lance can’t wait to hear in his singing. Lance really hopes this guy doesn’t suck because that would just ruin this whole K fantasy.

“This is a song I’m working on. It’s a little short because it isn’t finished but I wanted to test out what I’ve got tonight.”

Without further ado, Mystery—uh, Keith starts to play, beginning with piano chords that follow his vocal line up and down as he sings, 

“I spend every day in fear  
that I’ll waste away my years,  
All my peers begin careers  
and I just write these stupid songs.  
Am I staying in one place  
‘cause my head is up in space?  
I try to face this life with grace  
but I’m afraid of being wrong.”

He begins to play the chords loosely, letting the notes hit individually, and no longer following the vocal line exactly. A grace note or two embellishes the melody. 

“A hundred paths to choose  
but I’m scared of what I’ll lose  
when I don’t go down the other ninety-nine.  
And they say jealousy is madness,  
and the fastest path to sadness  
is comparing someone else’s life to mine.”

And then….then his fingers dance along the keys in a melody that grabs Lance’s soul as it rises to the higher register, the notes practically stumbling out as Keith, completely absorbed in his music, combines chords with a free-spirited melodic line. As the short piece comes to an end it feels like a question lingering in the air. He said it wasn’t finished, and it certainly has that feeling of something left unresolved…but Lance loves it, just as it is.

People clap and whoop as it becomes clear Keith has reached the end of his piece, and Keith looks up like he’s shaking off the final traces of a trance. Lance can relate, he feels like he was in a trance that whole performance. He finally remembers to clap as Keith says a brief “thank you” into the mic, and promptly leaves the stage.

It’s as Keith walks past him again that Lance is hit by the realization that he may have seriously underestimated the ability level of the performers at this open mic. Oh god, Lance can’t do this. Why did he think he could do this?! That piece Keith performed was incredible, and it’s not even finished yet! Sure, everyone here seems friendly and supportive, but they’re also leagues above Lance in talent and experience level! Is he really going to get up on that same stage, where this Keith guy just took the whole room on an emotional journey with a one minute song, and play a song about heartbreak?! How basic could he get, WHY DID HE PICK THAT SONG?! 

In the time that Lance has been internally freaking out, he missed the announcement of the next performer and a young woman stands on the stage with a ukulele in hand. He must have missed her introduction as well because she’s already playing, and Lance recognizes it, it’s a cover of that CCR song, Have You Ever Seen the Rain. She has a nice voice, and hearing a familiar song calms Lance’s racing thoughts.

“I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain coming down on a sunny day?” She sings and strums the chords, her technique is unrefined but it really is a lovely performance regardless of the more basic skill level.

_Ok, ok, I can do this. I told K I was going to this. He believes in me. I’m already on the sign-up sheet, it would be weird if I just left now. I’ve been practicing my song, it’s a good song, I play it well, it’ll be fine_. Lance takes a deep breath and claps with everyone else as the woman finishes her song. The other people at her table cheer particularly loud.

Lance had considered asking Hunk or Allura to come with him, and he knows either of his friends would have been more than happy to. But this first time, he wanted to come by himself. He wanted to just be an anonymous performer among strangers. He maybe regrets that a little bit now, but there’s no time to dwell on it as the fifth performer leaves the stage and the host says, “Can I get Lance McClain to the stage please?” and it’s time.

Lance pulled his guitar out when he got here so it could acclimate to the temperature of the room, and managed to tune it while some of the performers were getting set up, so all he has to do now is walk up to the stage, stand under the lights, and sing into the microphone. Easy peasy. No big deal at all.

Lance gets up on the stage and steps up to the mic. Keith is still in the back corner of the room, looking up at him along with the everyone else in the room. _It’s K, he’s watching and he’s cheering me on. I’ve got this_.

“The name’s Lance, and this is a song I wrote called I Don’t Wanna Be In Love Anymore. I hope you like it.” Lance adjusts his guitar strap and begins to play.

The song starts with a simple melody on the guitar, then a dramatic pause, then three hits of his palm on the guitar and the melody pics up again with intermittent chords and Lance’s hand slapping against the body of the guitar for a percussive element.

“I don’t wanna be in love anymore,  
I’m done being heartbroken for sure,  
It hurts in my head that I’m a stupid guy,  
Cuz I don’t wanna hurt you or make you cry.”

Lance is really proud of the jazz elements he was able to work into this song, from the chords to the melody, and he’s always felt that his voice sounds really smooth singing it, especially when he moves to his higher register in the chorus.

“Please don’t make me fall in love with you  
Cuz I don’t even know what to do.  
Please don’t make me fall in love again,  
But I hope we still see each other in the end.”

Now though, Lance can’t help but feel the lyrics are weak and maybe he shouldn’t have chosen the song he wrote about his ex-girlfriend from college for his first open mic performance. But he knows this song really well, and he (usually) feels confident playing it. He keeps going, trying not to pay too close attention to the audience and dissect their every reaction.

“Oh dear, don’t be sad cuz I’m right here,  
With an open shoulder for you,  
So don’t worry about me cuz I’m fine, at this time  
I’ll be a-okay, cuz it’s all over for me,  
Just please don’t make me fall in love again”

After the second chorus, Lance begins to whistle. When writing this one, he liked the juxtaposition of the bouncy melody and jaunty whistle with the sadder content of the song. Maybe it’s a bit indicative of Lance too, hiding sad emotions behind an outwardly happy attitude, but the audience doesn’t need to know that.

He finishes his song, and everyone claps. He even gets a few whoops of his own, which make his lips quirk up involuntarily in a smile.

“Thank you so much,” he says into the mic before heading back to his seat at the side of the room.

His legs feel a bit like jelly, but he did it! He played his own song for a real live audience at his first open mic! He can’t wait to tell K all about it.

Lance sneaks a glance back at his fake K as the last performer gets set up on stage. Keith is hunched over his notebook still, though he’s courteous enough to look up and pay attention when someone starts playing. Lance wonders if tonight has given him any inspiration for finishing his song (even though Lance thinks it’s kinda perfect as is).

When the performances for the night are all finished and the host gives his final thank-you to everyone for coming, Lance makes a decision.

He grabs his guitar case and heads toward Keith, who is standing by the table he’d been sat at, looking at his phone with those scrunched eyebrows that make up 90% of his facial expressions if tonight is anything to go by.

“Hey man, your song was amaz—” Lance starts, but cuts off as Keith straight up ignores him and heads briskly for the door. 

Lance is left mid-sentence with his hand extended where he’d been hoping to… shake the guy’s hand or something? He doesn’t even know, but now he never will because this jack ass is the rudest person in the world and completely blew Lance off as he was trying to COMPLIMENT HIM! The sting in Lance’s chest may be amplified by the fake emotional connection he had made pretending this guy was K, but either way Lance feels the indignation building in him at Keith’s dismissive behavior. Maybe Lance should find a new open mic to try if this is how it’s gonna be.

Before Lance can really work himself up over this guy, a voice sounds from behind him.

“Excuse me?”

Lance turns around to see the young woman who’d played the ukulele CCR cover. She’s probably a few years younger than him, and a full head shorter.

“Hi, I just wanted to say I loved your song! Your play style is so cool, I hope I see you around here again!”

Lance feels a warmth build in his chest as he thanks her and compliments her cover. _Ok, maybe this place isn’t all bad. One mullet haired jerk isn’t gonna keep me away_.

************************************************************************************************************************************************

Keith doesn’t usually run out of the open mic that quickly but a text from his neighbor and friend Pidge that Kosmo was whining in his apartment had him running out the door as soon as he got it. Kosmo never whines unless he’s sick. Keith told him not to eat that mystery crap on the sidewalk during their walk earlier but did he listen? Of course not.

Now that Keith has gotten Kosmo’s stomach to settle, set him up with his favorite stuffed animals and pillows, and gotten the mess cleaned up, he pulls up his messaging app to finally respond to L.

Dear friend,

I know you will do great tonight and you don’t need it, but good luck anyway. Let me know when I get to say I told you so.

I might take you up on that “rubber duck” suggestion. I’m pretty sure you were kidding but it’s honestly not a bad idea. I gave my project a test run tonight. Sometimes I feel like I can’t trust other people’s opinions because I can’t know if they’re saying what they really think or just what they think I want to hear. The feedback on my test run was pretty positive, but what if they’re just doing what is expected of them, how can I ever really know how someone really feels?

Sorry for the cynicism, but your insight has always helped my worries in the past.

Hurry up and tell me I was right about tonight, I know I was but the confirmation will prove you haven’t perished from some horrible and surely preventable death from your over-dramatics (that’s right, I said it, don’t even fight me on this you know it’s true).

I’m gonna go talk to an inanimate object and hope that Kosmo doesn’t think I’ve finally lost it.

Your friend,

K

Keith sends the message and turns to his open notebook. He’s stared at the same five sentences for so long now, he’s pretty sure he still sees them when he closes his eyes. Before he’d gotten the text about Kosmo at the end of the open mic tonight, he’d felt so inspired. That’s not uncommon when he gets to perform and see others share their music as well, but there was this new guy there tonight that Keith had never seen before.

The guy was tall and slim, tan, with bright blue eyes. He played guitar like his hands were born doing it, making it look so easy as he played a melody, chords, and added some percussion all seamlessly. His song was a simple verse, chorus, verse, chorus structure, but in a way it just aided the song, a song about heart break, about trying to make a relationship work in a different way after what it had been has ended. A simple structure with a relatable concept played like a friend comforting you. The smoothness of his voice certainly added to the comfort, Keith had gotten a little lost in his singing. Doesn’t hurt that the guy was handsome, like he walked straight out of a magazine.

Keith always admires songwriters who can write simply but effectively. Making something seem easy is the hardest thing you can do. Keith has a habit of making everything he writes complicated in an attempt to make it interesting or feel worthy to him. This new song started as his attempt to keep things simple, but the instrumental part after the lyrics got away from him a bit. He’s only one minute in and he already feels like the whole thing is fighting with itself, between the simpler chords and vocals at the start and the faster paced piano melody at the end. Plus, he can’t think of a single lyric for the next section. He just feels like he already said what he wanted to in the first five lines. If he’s honest, he likes what he’s written so far, but he has complete writer’s block and what kind of song is just over a minute long? The audience reacted really positively but everyone at this open mic is excessively nice and supportive. He can’t take their applause at face value.

Sighing, Keith grabs his stuffed hippo and heads to his keyboard. May as well make sure he wasn’t lying to L in his message.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m serious, Hunk, I’ve never encountered a more rude, self-centered, asshole, I mean who does this guy think he is? He thinks just because his voice could lull you to sleep and he plays piano like he’s being personally inspired by divine intervention that he’s too good for anyone else? Can’t spend two minutes talking to a guy who just wants to _compliment him_ , no, he has to actively _run_ out the door to avoid even making eye contact with me!”

“Lance, I love you but _please for the love of god_ , stop angry-gesturing with the kitchen knife before you lose a finger!”

Lance finally leaves the personal haze he enters when he’s really worked up about something, and notices Hunk’s panicked expression across their kitchen. He glances down at the cutting board and half-sliced red pepper in front of him and remembers that before he descended on his rant of the injustice he experienced at the open mic last night, he had been helping prep dinner.

“Oh. Sorry buddy.” Lance sets the knife on the counter and takes a step back for good measure.

Hunk lets out a breath Lance didn’t notice he was holding. Poor guy looks like Lance just took five years off his life.

“I’m gonna say one thing, and then we drop this topic so you can _safely_ help me make dinner.”

Lance nods. Hunk is the biggest softie you could ever meet (physically and emotional, the man is like a giant teddy bear), but do not mess with his dinner prep. Lance knows better than to do anything other than follow orders in Hunk’s kitchen.

Hunk turns back to the cubed chicken he’s cooking on the stove top to move the pieces around a bit, adjust the heat, and add some seasoning for the jerk chicken pasta they are making tonight. As he does this, he continues, “Have you stopped to consider that maybe, just maybe, this is a big misunderstanding and the guy didn’t mean to blow you off?”

“Hunk, my best bro, light of my life, jelly to my donut, you are entirely too nice and trust me, if you had been there, you’d know that is an impossibility. There is _no way_ he didn’t notice me, I was walking toward him, _speaking_ to him, he’d have to blind _and_ deaf not to notice me, which he wasn’t! The only explanation is he thinks he’s too good to spend even the slightest energy interacting with me and I HATE him and I hope I never see him again.”

“If you’re sure buddy. But didn’t you say this guy seemed like a regular? You’re probably gonna have to see him again if you go back and you promised I could come with next week!”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure as hell not gonna try to talk to him again, that’s for sure.” Lance approaches his cutting board and picks his knife back up, finally getting back to the dinner prep Hunk is allowing him to help with.

*****************************************************************************

Keith hears his phone sound with a notification from where he lays on his back under the ’91 Toyota Camry that’s their most regular customer at the shop Keith works for. Someone is really attached to this vehicle, enough that they are willing to bring it here every few months rather than giving in and buying a new car. It isn’t Keith’s business, he just has to fix the thing.

The notification from his phone wasn’t just any notification. It was the sound for a specific app that Keith only uses for one very specific thing. Messaging L. Keith decides now is as good a time as any to take his break.

He pushes himself out from under the car and yells across the shop, “Shiro, I’m taking 15.”

A strained “K” comes from the red ’93 Taurus a few feet away. Keith grabs one of the many rags strewn around the place and wipes any loose grime off his hands before grabbing his phone and heading to the break room.

The combined hum of the fluorescent lights and the vending machine in the corner of the small room is as familiar to Keith as the feel of the cracked vinyl armchair he sinks into as he pulls up the messaging app.

Keith stopped trying to deny the butterflies that this notification tone summons to his stomach like a Pavlovian response a long time ago. Accepting it doesn’t mean that he plans to do anything about it though. He likes what he has with L, it’s special, and it’s one of the few things that’s been consistent for Keith the past two years. L’s messages and music are the only thing’s Keith really needs.

Keith is smiling to himself before he even gets past their standard greeting, and he’s so glad Shiro is stuck under a car and not seeing the dopey look on his face.

Dear friend,

Please put your worries to rest, I have survived, nay, triumphed, as I always knew I would. My soul was bared and everyone was just as wooed by my irresistible charm as you are ;)

There was one person…he isn’t worth the time it takes to type this. He certainly thought I wasn’t.

But! Enough about me, you had a test run for your project! Congratulations on the positive reception, I’m sure it was well-deserved. 

Now K, how many times do I have to tell you buddy, you never have to apologize to me, especially not for sharing your feelings. I get what you mean about not knowing if you can trust people. And you’re right, sometimes there’s no way to know if someone’s being real with you. I think the best thing you can do is find those people whose opinions you can trust to be honest, and listen to them. I can only assume you chose to do your test-run the way you did for a reason. So, are these people ones you trust and respect? Then listen to them! And if not them then listen to me. I’m sure whatever this project is, if it’s as important to you as it seems then you’re on the right track!

Ya know K, I wasn’t having the best night the other day, and then I saw your message. And you could probably type the ingredients list from the back of a shampoo bottle, and it would still make my day. So thank you for that. Thanks for just…being in my life. You don’t know how much it means.

Ok, I don’t wanna end this on a sentimental note, cuz gross, so random thought for the day: Nothing is on fire, fire is on things.

Your friend,

L

By the end of the message Keith isn’t smiling any more. Despite the general positivity of the message, it’s obvious that whatever happened the other night is really bothering L. Keith’s known him long enough to know that those two lines say way more than the other paragraphs. 

_He certainly thought I wasn’t._

Who the fuck is this guy that made L feel so bad? An idiot, clearly, if he could meet L and not realize how _amazing_ he is.

Keith is so upset about this he knows he shouldn’t message L back right now or he’ll just be asking for this guy’s name and address to teach him some manners, and that goes against his and L’s arrangement.

It’s not like Keith has never considered asking L to change the parameters of their relationship. But the fear of scaring him away has kept Keith from ever doing so.

Even though his 15 isn’t over yet, Keith heads back to the shop. He moves around the space, organizing tools but not paying enough attention to his actions for it to be effective. He’s too in his head, but he can’t help it.

_I wasn’t having the best night the other day._

A loud clanking noise grabs Shiro’s attention as Keith puts a tool down with a bit more force than necessary.

“Keith?” Shiro has popped out from under the Taurus and is giving him the patented Concerned Shiro Look.

Keith sighs, and stops pretending to organize the tools. “It’s nothing Shiro, I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.”

Shiro is a rare breed of man. A true Adonis with wise-dad energy, more patience than any person should be capable of, and the most caring soul Keith has ever encountered. Keith questions every day what he did to deserve someone like Shiro in his life. He certainly wouldn’t be the person he is today without him.

They had a rocky start, when Keith was a closed-off teenager with a tendency towards trouble and Shiro approached him at an after-school program Keith’s foster parents forced him to do. But by now, all Shiro has to do is give Keith a look and wait, and Keith cracks every time.

“It’s just—I have this…friend. And something upset him, and I can’t help. But I want to.”

“Does this ‘friend’ have anything to do with that phone notification that always seems to need your immediate attention?” Shiro asks with an innocent look marred only by the gleam in his eye that tells Keith he can’t talk his way out of this conversation.

Damn it. Keith always knew Shiro was too observant for his own good. Too thirsty for gossip too. He hopes against hope that his face isn’t as red as it feels right now. He can tell from Shiro’s knowing look that it is.

“No.” Keith may have grown up a lot since he was an angsty teen, but he’s still stubborn as hell.

Shiro just quirks an eyebrow at that as he makes his way across the shop to lean against the workbench across from Keith, who ignores him in favor of going back to moving the tools around on the bench.

“Ya know, if you don’t tell me, I’m gonna have to start guessing,” Shiro says as it becomes clear Keith won’t enter this conversation willingly. “Secret boyfriend?”

Keith huffs at that, but otherwise gives no indication he’s listening.

“Oh ok, so you just wish he was your boyfriend. Straight, or taken?”

“ _Shiro_.”

“Straight AND taken? That’s some bad luck Keith.”

“I’m disowning you.” Keith heads back over to the Camry. His break is over soon anyway and maybe if he’s under a car Shiro will leave him alone.

“I’ve heard that one before,” Shiro says, falling into step behind Keith.

“I mean it this time.”

“So why is it that you can’t help this guy?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s rarely as complicated as you think it is, Keith.”

“Oh, would you look at that, my break is over.” Keith starts to get back under the Camry, thinking through the likelihood that Shiro is hit in the head while working and gets short-term amnesia, the only way he knows he can get out of coming clean to Shiro about his secret, anonymous, online correspondence. He’s never had to explain L to anyone before and he doesn’t want to. He’d rather keep L to himself, thanks.

Shiro, predictably, stops him before he can go hide under the car. “Keith, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Keith sighs, and feels all his defenses coming down in the face of all of Shiro’s sincere looks. “I know, Shiro. Thank you. I’m just not ready to talk about it.”

Shiro stares at Keith a few seconds more, then nods, stepping away. “Fine. But know you can’t avoid telling me forever.” Shiro heads back to his own workstation, finally.

“Oh trust me, I know, ya big gossip,” Keith mutters under his breath.

“I heard that!”

*******************************************************************************

After work, Keith decides to stop by the café that’s on his route home. He’s been in a few times, it has a friendly atmosphere, good drinks, and most importantly it’s convenient. 

The bell above the door jingles as he enters and he joins the short line, pulling out his phone to look at L’s message again and consider the response he plans to write once he gets his drink.

He notices past the few people ahead of him in line that there’s a young guy at the register. Every time he’s been by after work before, it’s been a woman with silver hair that makes her look like some sort of space goddess. There’s something familiar about the guy in her place now, but Keith can’t put his finger on it.

The customer at the register now is the indecisive type, so Keith goes back to considering L’s message. He wants to let L know that he can tell he’s more upset about this mystery guy than he’s letting on, but he doesn’t want to push him into talking about something he’d rather not. 

Keith glances over L’s last paragraph again, and can’t help the small smile that comes to his face. _Thanks for just…being in my life. You don’t know how much it means_. Yeah, L, Keith thinks he probably has some idea. If he even means half as much to L and L means to him then…

“Can I help who’s next?”

The voice pulls Keith back to the present, looking up to realize the two customers in front of him are now standing to the side waiting for their orders.

“Sorry, I’ll have—”

“Oh, it’s you.”

Keith gets cut-off mid order by the wry tone in the cashier’s voice, a complete 180 from the friendly customer-service voice just a second ago.

“Excuse me?” Keith looks the guy up and down, once again thinking he looks familiar, but he’s pretty sure he’d remember if this sneer had ever been aimed at him before. “Do I know you?”

For a minute the guy just stares at him, Keith getting more uncomfortable by the second, before he lets out a huff of breath like Keith has disappointed this complete stranger in some monumental way.

“The name’s Lance.”

Keith waits for him to continue his explanation, and Lance stares at him like that was the explanation.

“We went to the same open mic the other day?” Lance continues, with a tone filled with more exasperation that Keith has ever heard.

“Oh!” That’s why he looked familiar! The guy who played the guitar like they were one being. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you without—”

“Whatever dude, what do you want? There’s a line forming.”

“Hey!” Keith feels that temper that still occasionally gets the best of him rising to the surface. Is this guy seriously mad Keith didn’t recognize him after seeing him all of one time for maybe 5 minutes when he performed? “What’s your problem, huh?”

“My problem? Who said I have a problem? Just give me your order and then you can leave and my existence doesn’t have to bother you anymore.”

“Look, I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but I don’t have to take this shit.” 

Keith walks away from the counter and storms out of the shop. He’s not so desperate for a drink that he’ll let himself be treated that way for no reason. All he wants right now is to get home, message L, and forget about what an asshole Lance turned out to be. No matter how much Keith admires his skill at music, it’s clear that Lance isn’t worth Keith’s time.

******************************************************************************

Allura finally showed up to relieve Lance that evening after he had to cover the first half of her shift due to a mild family emergency. Something about her crazy uncle and what Lance thinks she called the “Slipperies”? Must be some British thing. But as shop Manager, it was Lance’s responsibility the make sure someone manned the counter for those few hours she was out. He never expected for Keith to show up across the register, thought he had at least four more days before he had to see him again.

And of course, he was just as much of an asshole as the first time. He didn’t even recognize Lance, which just proves Lance right in thinking he’s some self-entitled jerk who thinks he’s better than everyone.

Anyway. Lance got a message from K while he was working still and he knows if anything will make him feel better right now, it’s K.

He settles onto the couch in his apartment and pulls up their messaging app, opening the most recent one.

Dear friend,

You say I don’t know how much it means that I’m a part of your life, but I’m pretty sure I do. Your messages have gotten me through so much L, difficult things become more bearable when I hear from you, and happy things are happier when I share them with you. You’re one of the most important people in my life, I mean that.

Also I need you to know that if I could, I would beat up this punk who made you feel bad. Whatever the situation was, he’s gonna feel like a real idiot someday when he realizes how great you are. 

Funnily enough, I had a run-in a little earlier with some guy who was a total jerk to me for no reason. Sometimes that happens, and it’s not worth your energy or mine worrying about what someone as inconsequential as that thinks about us.  
I know we don’t really go into details here, but you already know about Kosmo, so I’m attaching a picture from earlier today. I think you’ll like it.

Did I ever tell you how Kosmo got his name? When I first got him, I didn’t name him. I thought once he trusted me and we were close enough, I would just know his name. My friend got so fed up with him not having a name, he just started calling him Kosmo. 

I hope that story made you laugh. I bet you have a really nice one.

Your friend,

K

The story does make Lance laugh, and he quickly clicks the attachment to see this picture of Kosmo.

The picture shows a very guilty-looking husky in a bathroom with toilet paper strewn everywhere, including wrapped around the dog himself. 

Lance’s gut hurts from laughing, and his face is beginning to ache from smiling. Some days, it seems like even though they’ve never met, K knows Lance better than anyone. 

Lance’s chest warms as he thinks over the opening to K’s message. _You’re one of the most important people in my life_. The giddiness bursting beneath Lance’s skin makes him feel like a teenager whose crush just spoke to them in the school hallway. 

Oh god. Crush? Does Lance have a crush on K? 

Right as he feels himself tip on the edge of a minor panic, Lance hears the apartment door open, and Hunk yells out an “I’m home!”

“Hunk! Emergency meeting! I’m texting Allura to come over!” Lance shoots Lura an SOS as he walks over to the entry way and takes in his friend’s concerned expression, paused halfway through removing his shoes.

“Sure thing buddy, is everything alright?”

“Alright? Alright! No everything is not alright! Hunk, I think I’m in love with a person I’ve never met.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene is set, the game's afoot!
> 
> What will happen next???? Guess I better write the next chapter to find out lol
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> With Christmas next week, which my family celebrates, I might not have the next chapter up next week, but I have some time off at home over new years so I will definitely work on it then!
> 
> Also, props to all the brave souls who clicked on an unfinished fic that's only one chapter in, you are the real MVPs! <3
> 
> Happy Holidays all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More songs for this chapter!
> 
> Keith just plays a cover (you'll recognize it!) but here is a link to the song if you wanna listen along anyway: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbO6P-_Zx0Y
> 
> Lance's song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxOknCjywoQ Lost and Found by grentperez
> 
> I am literally making this up as I write it, which is a wild and sometimes rewarding experience, and I hope you enjoy taking this ride along with me! Thanks for reading :D
> 
> Comments are always appreciated <3 I love to hear your thoughts and reactions!
> 
> Enjoy!

Shortly after Lance sent his SOS text to Lura he remembered that she had in fact been the one to relieve him at the café, meaning there was no way she could make it over for an emergency meeting that night.

This was how they found themselves settling into a booth by the window of Lance’s favorite breakfast place late the next morning. Lance figured if he couldn’t have his emergency meeting right away he may as well get brunch with his besties out of it.

“Ok Lance,” Hunk begins, “you made me wait all night without a single detail after dropping the Emergency Meeting bomb on me—which, rude—so tell us what is going on?”

“Right…ok, so. There’s something that I haven’t told either of you….” Lance avoids eye contact, moving the food around on his plate, considering how to explain his relationship with K. He really hadn’t thought this through before he panicked and brought in the cavalry and now there was no way out.

“And that relates to this stranger you mentioned to Hunk?” Allura prompts gently, leaning forward. It’s clear from her face she is just as curious as Hunk, but she’s always been the calmer of the two when getting information.

Lance looks between his two best friends, with there supportive and curious expressions, and decides to just rip off the bandaid.

“I’vehadananonymousonlinerelationshipforthepasttwoyears!”

Hunk and Allura both stare wide eyed, then glance at each other, before looking back to Lance and replying in unison, “What?”

Lance heaves a sigh, slumping in his chair like all his bones have melted in his body.

“For two years now, I’ve been talking with someone online, anonymously. He goes by K, and I don’t know anything about him.”

The silence that follows stretches for so long that Lance finally looks up. Allura is making that scrunched expression like she’s trying to keep from saying something, and Hunk looks like his brain is still rebooting.

“It’s really not that big a deal—”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Hunk emerges from his reboot, interrupting Lance’s attempted damage control.

“When I started talking to K, I was never expecting it to become a regular thing. It was….a curiosity. I went into it as a joke but then I met K and we just started sending each other messages every once in a while, then at some point that became every day, and now it’s been two years and he’s as much a part of my life as you two!”

His friends still seem to be processing, and Lance isn’t sure how else to explain his situation with K to them. Part of him still wants to keep K to himself, safe where no one can judge what they have. 

“I think the reason I never told anyone is because I know how it sounds. I know that it’s a textbook example of what not to do on the internet. But look, I’m not an idiot ok, I’ve never shared any details with him, and neither has he. No names, ages, occupations, not even the general location where we live, just thoughts…feelings…stuff we’re going through in as broad of terms as possible ok? I’m not in any danger here, so don’t worry. I may not know a single detail about K, but I know the kind of person he is. He’s a good guy, and he’s been with me through a lot.”

“And you think you’re in love with him?” Hunk says.

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” Lance falls forward on the table and buries his face in his arms.

“Lance” Allura starts in that supportive yet slightly disapproving tone that only she can pull off, “while I understand why you’ve avoided sharing any details, you do realize that this K could be anybody, right? He could be old enough to be your grandfather, or a teenager even!”

“No, no, definitely not, I may not know K’s exact age, but he’s far too mature to be a kid! And from the conversations we’ve had, it really seems like we are at similar points in our lives. I’m pretty confident he’s in his mid-twenties too.”

“Well people mature at all kinds of rates, ‘at similar points in your lives’ could mean anything.”

“Ok I think we are straying from the point here!” Hunk interrupts. “Lance, why do you think you might be in love with K?”

Lance sits up and takes a moment to just think about K, the nameless, faceless friend who has supported him and trusted him for the past two years.

“Gosh, I don’t even know how to explain…K is…what I have with K is something I’ve never had with anyone, ya know? He knows parts of me that I don’t know how to show anyone else, he’s one of the most caring people I know, and I know you two, so that’s saying something! And it’s not just that he’s kind to me and a good listener, he trusts me too. He tells me about stuff that’s bothering him, he actually asks me for advice, we’re equals! Plus, he makes me feel like I can do anything. He’s the reason I finally decided to go perform at an open mic. And he’s the reason I was strong enough to stay and go through with it and not run out the door the minute I started doubting myself. He makes me better. I don’t know who I’d be without him being with me for those weird years after college. And then the other day I was reading a message from him and it completely turned my bad mood around, and he said I was important to him and then I panicked and called the emergency meeting!”

Lance realizes he’s been talking a bit longer than he meant to and finally closes his mouth. Hunk and Lura look a bit shocked, but before they get the chance to respond, Lance notices something through the window.

“Oh shit!” Lance turns away from the window and scrunches in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Um, what are you doing?” Hunk asks leaning over the table to meet Lance’s eye.

“Don’t look at me, I’m hiding!”

“From who?”

“Jerk mullet, walking past the window, don’t look!”

They both look. Just as Keith, whom Lance noticed walking toward the restaurant from down the sidewalk, strides past with his leather jacket and fuck-off attitude and stupid, stupid mullet.

“Is that guy an ex-boyfriend you haven’t told us about?” Allura asks, actually leaning over the table to get a better look.

“NO! And please stop being completely obvious before you get his attention, I’m _avoiding him_ for a reason! _That_ is the jerk from the open mic and the café last night, Keith.”

“The café? Oh! I thought he looked familiar, yes I’m sure he’s come in during my shifts a few times.” Allura finally sits back, satisfied with a mystery resolved.

“Uh, Lance, he’s coming in here.” Hunk stares over Lance’s shoulder toward the door just as Lance hears the tinkle of the bell.

“Fuck me. I cannot deal with that guy right now, he’s filled my ‘dealing with assholes’ quota for the week already.”

“He always seemed perfectly polite when he’s come to the café in the past,” Allura says, her face down to her food in what Lance can only assume is her attempt to be inconspicuous while still flicking her eyes toward the front to watch whatever surely riveting thing Keith is doing right now.

“Yeah well he seems to have an issue with me in particular. Thinks he’s too good to waste his time on me.”

“Oh Lance did you use one of those pick up lines on him? I’ve tried to tell you those do not have the affect you think they do.”

“Why are you so convinced this is somehow my fault! I’m the victim here!” Lance whisper-yells as he clings to the chance that they will still avoid detection despite his friends being less than subtle.

“He’s totally staring at us,” Hunk says. Allura waves with a bright smile. Lance wants to die. He’s considering how disgusting it would be to slide all the way down his seat and hide under the table.

“I hate both of you. Is he still looking?”

“No.”

Lance slowly peeks over the back of his seat. Keith is still looking, with a very confused expression that twists into something more disgusted when he meets Lance’s eyes. Then the man behind the counter gets Keith’s attention, hands him a bag, and Keith leaves. Lance glares at Hunk for lying, who enthusiastically eats his brunch and pointedly ignores the glare.

“How is it that I can live here for years, and never see that guy, and now I’ve seen him three times in a week!” Lance huffs.

“Maybe you have seen him before and just didn’t realize,” Hunk suggests.

“Impossible, I would have noticed him, and remembered.”

“Maybe it’s fate,” Allura suggest lightly.

“Fate couldn’t possibly be that cruel to me, I’m too beautiful.”

“We didn’t come here to talk about Keith, we came here to talk about K,” Hunk reminds them. Lance suspects Hunk is a little tired of listening to Lance complain about Keith. Mental note: let Hunk choose the next movie night for being the best bro ever.

“Oh my goodness!” Allura exclaims suddenly, leaning forward with eyes glittering, “what if Keith is K?”

“Ha! No, if there’s anyone I can rule out of the possibilities, it’s that asshat.”

“Well it could be possible—”

“Off topic Allura! Lance, what are you going to do about your feelings for K?”

“Do I really have to _do_ anything?”

“Lance, please.” Hunk levels him with a no-nonsense look. “I know you, and when you catch feelings for someone, you can’t help yourself. We all know doing nothing is not an option for you.”

“The way I see it,” Allura interjects, “it really boils down to two options. You either stop the correspondence—”

“No, absolutely not.”

“—or you ask to meet.”

“Meet? I don’t even know where he lives, if he’s even in this country!”

“Well meeting would be the best option, but I suppose you could video chat if it comes down to it. But really anything other than meeting in person has too much opportunity for falsification.”

“I don’t know Allura, we’re pretty strict about keeping it anonymous, I don’t want to cross a boundary or scare him away.”

“It’s up to you what you do Lance, you don’t have to decide right now.”

“Allura’s right, and we’re here for you whatever you decide.”

Lance is overcome for a moment with affection for his friends. They hadn’t judged him once for his weird anonymous relationship, just supported him and offered advice. These two really are the best.

“Thank you. I’ll have to think on it. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

“Oh you’d better. I will be living vicariously through you while Shay is still away at grad school. I expect to get all the juicy details.” 

“Yes, I also require as much detail as possible, I need something to report back to my mice, you know how invested they get in my friends’ love lives!”

Yeah, Lance has the best and weirdest friends ever.

***************************************************************************************************************************

“You know I don’t even believe in this kind of stuff Shiro, but I’m honestly starting to think there’s a higher power who has it out for me with the amount of times I’ve run into him. Who even has the energy to be that much of a jerk all the time?”

“Oh come on, Keith, I’m sure he’s not that bad.” Keith isn’t actively looking at his phone where he is video chatting with Shiro while he gets ready for his date with Adam (Shiro insisted Keith video in to help pick his outfit even though Shiro literally looks good in anything, and Keith has zero fashion sense), but he can still picture the expression he’s giving him from his tone of voice alone.

Keith turns back to his phone and starts counting off the interactions on his fingers.

“Yelled at me at the café for no reason, hid at Frida’s restaurant like a fucking child when I stopped in to pick up our breakfast, insulted my clothes and eating habits at the grocery store, I can hardly walk to the park with Kosmo without catching sight of him _running the other direction_ like I’m some sort of plague. And there’s a chance he’s at the open mic again tonight.”

“Well I don’t know what to tell you Keith but you can’t just skip out on your favorite part of the week because there’s a chance this Lance guy will be there.”

“Just tell me what I need to sacrifice to end this curse that’s been cast upon me!” Keith isn’t usually one for such dramatics, but Lance brings it out in him. L must be rubbing off on him.

“Keith, look at me. You are going to go to this open mic. You are going to play your song and enjoy the other musicians’ performances. If you see Lance, you are going to take a deep breath and remember that—”

“Patience yields focus. Really Shiro? I haven’t heard that from you in years.”

“Yeah, well it seems like you need the reminder right now. Ok, how do I look?”

Shiro steps back from the phone where he’s propped it up on his dresser. He’s wearing a simple white button down with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up with a pair of black slacks.

“You look great Shiro. I know you don’t need me here to tell you that.”

“Yeah, but I still like to hear it.” Shiro smiles and straightens his collar. “Ok, I have to go, and so do you if you don’t want to be late for the open mic, which you are going to, so get a move on!”

“Alright, alright, have fun on your date, tell Adam I say hi.”

“Will do, and good luck tonight. I know you don’t need it for the music but it sounds like you might with Lance.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic but that’s only because you _don’t understand how infuriating he is!_ ”

“Bye Keith!” Shiro says cheerfully and ends the call.

Keith sighs and takes a minute to debate if he’s really going tonight. Shiro’s right that it is his favorite part of every week. Maybe he’ll get lucky for the first time all week and Lance will be one of those people who only ever shows up once. He can only hope. He grabs his stuff, says goodbye to Kosmo, then heads out the door.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Luck is not on Keith’s side because Lance is at the open mic, and his friend from Frida’s is with him this time, the one Keith didn’t recognize as the usual cashier at the café.

On the upside, Lance seems determined to completely ignore Keith which is just fine with him. If he can make it out of here tonight without a word between them, he’ll count it as a success.

Lance has his guitar with him again, but his friend is empty handed, probably just along to listen and provide moral support. Keith has never brought anyone with him to this, despite the many times Shiro has begged to come along. He likes the general sense of anonymity, but also the feeling of community among the regulars. When he’s here, all Keith has to be is a musician. That’s all anyone knows him as, and it’s all that’s expected of him. It’s nice.

Keith signs up for his usual spot and finds an empty table. No one ever seems to want the first slot, so even when he’s a bit late, it’s usually still available.

As he waits for Rolo, the host of these open mics, to get things going, Keith tries to avoid thinking about L, which goes about as well as you’d expect. The past few days, L has seemed…distant. It’s not really any one thing. After Keith sent that picture of Kosmo, L took longer than usual to get back to him. It happens sometimes, but Keith can’t help but worry that he crossed a line, despite L’s enthusiasm for the picture and story about his name. Kosmo was one of the few details Keith shared with L before they decided it was better to keep things as non-specific as possible.

Keith’s been talking with L long enough to notice when he’s holding back. He doesn’t want to be nosey, but he’s been wondering if he should ask if something’s wrong. He’d decided the other night he’d give it another week or so before saying something. Hopefully, whatever’s going on will blow over and L will be back to normal. It probably doesn’t have anything to do with Keith anyway.

Finally, Rolo approaches the stage and starts his usual introduction. Or so Keith thought.

“Alright everybody, tonight we will have a special announcement after the performances, so make sure you stick around til the end to hear what it is. We’ve got a decent number tonight on the sign up sheet, so let’s get Keith Kogane up here to kick things off!”

Keith wonders what this special announcement could be as he makes his way to the stage. In his six months or so of performing here he’s never heard any ‘special announcements’ before.

He gets settled at the keyboard and looks out into the audience. Try as he might, he can’t help but glance at Lance and his friend. The big guy has an open and friendly expression, and Lance’s face is impossible to read. At least he’s not glaring.

“I’m Keith. Usually I play stuff I’ve written, but tonight I’m gonna do a cover. This is one of the first songs I ever learned to sing and play, and I know it’s a bit cliché, but the lyrics have always hit kinda close to home for me.” Keith doesn’t know why he’s talking so much tonight. For some reason, he feels the need to defend his song choice. 

As he plays the opening notes, with the bassline wandering leisurely up and down and higher notes moving at a faster pace, he knows everyone will recognize it immediately. Hallelujah is always a crowd favorite.

As he starts to sing, Keith starts soft, almost conversational, with the words that everyone knows by heart.

“I've heard there was a secret chord  
That David played and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do ya?  
Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth  
The minor fall, the major lift  
The baffled king composing Hallelujah”

There was a time in his life, when he was still in the foster system, when he was untethered and angry, when he would listen to this song on repeat and feel every note and every word at the core of his being.

“Well baby, I've been here before  
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor  
I used to live alone before I knew you.  
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
Love is not a victory march  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah”

Keith’s had a lot of thoughts on love throughout his life. He’s been with men who said the word but never followed through. He’s seen people who act like love is a victory march, like it’s a prize one can boast or lord over others, like in order for them to have it, they have to be the victor and someone else the loser. Keith didn’t really understand love until Shiro came into his life and refused to leave. Until L listened to every thought and insecurity Keith grew brave enough to share with him and always came back with care and understanding.

“Well, maybe there's a God above  
But all I've ever learned from love  
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you  
And it's not a cry that you hear at night  
It's not somebody who’s seen the Light  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah”

There was a time when this verse said everything Keith felt about love. He always made sure he was the first to move on, never staying long enough for the other to hurt him. Never staying long enough for the chance of anything real. He’s grown since then. Still, this song will always hold a special place in Keith’s heart. And it will always pull the most emotional performances from him as he remembers every bit of anguish and fear and frustration he felt all those years.

As Keith sings the final note, and plays the final chord, he slowly comes back to reality, to the room and the people and the lights and the keyboard. The silence is thick before the clapping starts, the kind of emotional applause that doesn’t come with shouts or cheers, but that is heavy with the feelings shared by everyone in the room.

Looking out at everyone, Keith notices Lance turn his head down and wipe at his face. His friend is applauding with wide-span claps that resonate through the entire room. Lance doesn’t look back toward the stage.

“Thank you.” Keith gets up and heads back to his table in the back. He’s not sure what he’s feeling right now, or why, but he still feels a little disconnected from his senses after that performance.

Someone gets up with a banjo and plays an Irish comedy song, another person with a guitar plays an original about saying goodbye to your childhood home that Keith is sure is very emotional and relatable for someone that isn’t him.

Sooner than Keith’s ready for, Lance is standing on the stage with his guitar. Unfortunately, he looks just as good as he did last week. Why does someone so attractive and so talented have to be such an asshole? Keith supposes it’d be too much if Lance was actually a decent person on top of everything else. 

“Hi, I’m Lance,” Lance gives a small smile to the audience, “this is a song I wrote a while back called Lost and Found. I hope you like it.”

Keith can’t help but compare the gentle smile he sees now to the sneer Lance gave him at the café last week. It hurts more than it probably should because Keith has no idea what he did to make Lance act that way. His friend cheering for him from the table nearby and the young woman from the café both seem like such kind and genuine people from the little Keith has seen of them. So it seems wrong that Lance could be such a terrible person and have such lovely friends. Which leads Keith to think that it’s just something about _him_ in particular that made Lance act the way he does. Not that Keith has spent a lot of time thinking about this the past week.

Immediately, Lance starts playing a beautiful plucking pattern, fingers dancing across the strings with all the skill that Keith admired last week when he was just a handsome stranger on the stage.

“How do you bring me so much joy  
Is your heart just filled with  
Everything I could ever ask for  
With you I feel I could be there for 

Hours on end, it's more than enough  
At the touch of your hand  
I fall more in love with you  
I’m falling for you 

Cause you’re an angel from above  
And I dive into your ocean of love  
And I don’t wanna ever lose you baby  
And now I’m so far down  
Was lost but now I know I’ve been found”

Lance’s voice is so smooth, it sinks under Keith’s skin and calms every part of him despite himself. He feels goosebumps rising on his arms as much as he’d like to deny it. 

“Give, give your all to me, and I  
I will let you see, oh  
All I have inside  
If you’re willing to take that ride  
Cause life is about making mistakes  
I don’t care how long it takes  
For you to be in my arms  
One day you’ll fall for my charms”

On this last line, Lance even winks at the audience, getting a few chuckles. Keith lets out an exasperated breath and crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. Lance is probably the type to have more confidence than he deserves.

The next chorus transitions seamlessly into a bridge, then a final verse.

“Found by you its oh so new  
I’ve got no reason to feel blue  
It’s crazy that I feel this way  
I thank God for that special day  
Now I know not to be scared  
I guess I wasn’t that prepared

And every moment spent with you  
It feels like something special  
And we used to be different  
Now I can call you my best friend”

Lance draws out the note on “friend” riffing beautifully and effortlessly. It brings an emotion to the moment that lifts the song above a basic infatuation song to something more meaningful. He sings a final chorus and a short outro, claiming that his heart was in the lost and found. The final notes ring through the air and the audience breaks into cheers and applause. Keith claps along, it was a great performance and he isn’t a complete jerkwad like _some people_.

“Thank you so much,” Lance says into the mic, friendly smile on full display. His friend lets out one last “Go Lance!” as he leaves the stage and even Keith can tell that the big guy is barely holding himself back from hugging Lance right here and now. That guy seems to have a lot of enthusiasm.

It’s a bit difficult for Keith to focus after that, but there are only two more performers before Rolo is taking the stage again and Keith remembers there’s an announcement they’ve all been waiting for.

“Alright everyone, thank you for an excellent night of music, give yourselves another round of applause. Tonight, we’re announcing Common Ground’s first ever Duet Competition! In order to foster relationships among our crazy talented musicians, we want to invite you to meet someone new, pair up, and write a song together. Since not everyone is here every week we’re gonna give four weeks from now to get signed up, then the competition will take place a month after that. Sign up sheet will be here along side our regular sign up sheet each week. No cost to compete, but our sponsors will have some sweet prizes for the top five duos, with first place receiving a chance to record their song in a professional studio and be featured on the nationwide alternative radio station, Altea Sound. Exciting stuff. If you have any questions there’s a stack of flyers with an email you can contact by the door. That’s it, thanks everyone and have a good night.”

An excited buzz picks up around Keith but he’s stuck on Rolo’s words. Professional studio time AND a feature on the most popular alternative station in the country? This is huge. This could launch Keith’s music career from a small stage in a room with a max capacity of 100 people to a national audience. Altea Sound is known for featuring lesser known artists, and most go on to gain cult followings of dedicated fans.

But a duet? _Why_ does it have to be a duet?! Keith is a perfectly good musician on his own, he doesn’t need someone else’s style and opinions muddling up his music.

Keith is pulled from his thoughts when Lance’s friend approaches, thankfully with no Lance in sight.

“Hey man, I know you and Lance have some sort of weird beef going on, but I just had to tell you, your performance was amazing. Lance thinks so too even if he’d never admit it. I’m Hunk by the way.”

Hunk holds out his hand and Keith stands from his seat and shakes it.

“Thank you. That’s really kind of you to say. I’m Keith.”

“Oh I know dude, Lance will not shut up about you! It’s actually nice to finally meet you after how much I’ve had to listen to ‘Keith this’ and ‘Keith that’ the past week. We’re roommates so when Lance gets worked up about something, there’s really no avoiding it.”

“I’m…sorry?” Keith doesn’t know what to do with this onslaught of information he’s been given. He glances around wondering where Lance is, and why he isn’t freaking out over Hunk being friendly with him.

“No worries man, that’s just how Lance gets sometimes. He’s a good guy really, but I gotta go before he comes back from the bathroom and sees us talking or I will _never_ hear the end of it. Nice meeting you Keith, and again, amazing performance. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Thanks!” Keith says as Hunk turns to hastily move to the other side of the room before Lance catches him red-handed. 

This night has given Keith a lot to think about. The Duet Competition, this new information about Lance, the constantly underlying thoughts about what’s going on with L. it’s all swirling in his head too quickly to focus on any of it. Keith needs to get home to his keyboard. Then probably message L since that always helps him sort through his thoughts.

Keith leaves the restaurant before Lance emerges from the bathroom. Though it’s a success by his standards at the start of the night, for some reason Keith can’t find any satisfaction in avoiding another altercation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the song links again!
> 
> Keith's cover (Hallelujah) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbO6P-_Zx0Y  
> Lance's song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxOknCjywoQ Lost and Found by grentperez
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know your thoughts in the comments~~~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you everyone for your kudos and hits on this fic! I really am completely winging this story so the feedback is really encouraging! 😁😁😁 Hope you enjoy this next chapter ~~~

Lance can’t take it anymore. 

He paces around his room as the afternoon light streams between his blinds, half dressed for work still as he just got home from his opening shift a half hour ago. He won’t be surprised when he looks at the carpet later to see a threadbare path where he’s worn the thing down.

It’s been a week. One week since he brunched with his besties and spilled about K. One week since Allura said those damning words that keep circling his mind like the last persistent suds in a drain.

_You either stop the correspondence, or you ask to meet._

The former suggestion still causes Lance to flinch any time he thinks of it. Stop talking to K? She may as well have suggested he never sing again. Not gonna happen, no way, no how.

But ask to meet….Lance couldn’t decided if he loved or hated the idea.

But after a week of back and forth about K on top of the stress of whether to try and enter the duet competition at the open mic and the annoyance of somehow continuing to run into Keith everywhere (seriously was this guy _stalking_ him? Why would he stalk someone he hates? Is he a masochist? A serial killer?! Why does he seem to be everywhere Lance goes???) something’s gotta give.

Lance has no control over the Keith situation. _Some_ may suggest that Lance does have control over his own actions and feelings, and could therefore choose to move past his anger at Keith and no longer allow the other’s seemingly constant presence to bother him. Those people (Hunk) would be WRONG! Keith is an asshole through and through and Lance can’t change that about him.

Now Lance would be lying if he said the image of Keith on that stage performing Hallelujah like he was writing the song in front of them, like it was a part of his very soul, hadn’t been haunting him every time he blinked. But even Lance’s begrudging (and growing) admiration for Keith’s skill as a musician (which he has vowed to take with him to the grave) isn’t enough to get past the fact that they just hate each other.

Lance could do something about the duet competition, technically. But he’s only been to Common Ground twice now and hasn’t really made any connections with the other musicians, not enough to know who he might want to write a song with. The thought of competing for a chance to be professionally recorded and featured on Altea Sound? That’s a dream come true. So he will find a way to be in that competition. He just can’t really do anything about it right at this moment.

Which leaves…..

Dear friend,

A friend of mine had this crazy suggestion so I’m just gonna come out and say it, do you want to meet?

Lance deletes that whole line, nope nopity nope nope that is not gonna work. He needs to be strategic here. Casual, make sure K doesn’t feel pressured, seem like he’s not completely desperate and going half insane just thinking about this.

Dear friend,

I know it’s a long shot, and please, feel free to turn me down, no hard feelings, but I was wondering, if we by some chance happen to even be in the same state, do you want to try and meet sometime?

No no no no no, UGH why was this so hard?! Lance deletes everything he’s just written and flops backward onto his bed, groaning in defeat.

Messaging K is usually the easiest part of Lance’s day. He knows he can tell K anything, honestly he’ll probably be super nice about Lance asking to meet, even if he turns him down. Knowing that doesn’t make him any less nervous though.

Lance lifts his phone back in front of his face and starts scrolling through his messages with K. They didn’t meet on this app, so their first messages aren’t on here. Still, there are almost two years’ worth of correspondence saved here, with stars marking the ones Lance likes to return to every now and then.

But while they may not have met on their current messaging platform, that doesn’t mean Lance doesn’t still have those initial messages saved. He jumps to his photo gallery, where he’s saved the screenshots of that first month of messages before they decided to move to something more permanent.

Back in Lance’s final year of college, an anonymous messaging app took the campus by storm. At the time, Lance had been much too busy trying to pass classes to check it out, but after graduating and being let loose into the great wide world, Lance got bored, and lonely. So he downloaded Grapevine and read complaints about soul sucking jobs and aggressive thirst messages to pass the time.

A post caught Lance’s attention one day, enough that he just had to reply. Someone by the username—and Lance isn’t even making this up—Knife’s Edge, wrote: Do you ever feel like something…some energy is telling you to search? Like something great is out there waiting, calling you to discover it. #IWantToBelieve

Lance stared at his phone for a full five minutes. This was so beyond the usual posts on this app. Was this guy for real? He had to know.

Reply from Loverboy Blue: Gonna have to ask you to step away from the string board buddy and maybe step outside for some much needed vitamin D, whether that’s from the sun or getting some is up to you. I’m sure you’re deprived of both.

Lance didn’t have to wait long until he had a reply.

Reply from Knife’s Edge: You must be pretty desperate if you’re propositioning strangers on an anonymous messaging app. Though I suppose the desperation is unsurprising with a name like Loverboy Blue. My vitamin D levels are fine, thanks.

Lance squawked, shocked that some conspiracy theorist emo kid could slap back. It was also the most invigorated Lance had felt in… a while. He began typing back.

Looking back at those first messages now, Lance chuckles at their snarky back and forth. K came around at a time when Lance really needed something, anything, to pull him out of the day-to-day drudgery that was his post-college life. Bickering with Knife’s Edge was the perfect antidote. Eventually they started having real conversations, then moved to their current messaging app and decided to keep things anonymous anyway.

And now Lance is going to ask K to uproot all of that, the entire basis of their friendship. Just because he can’t keep his stupid feelings under control.

Lance sighs and drags his hand down his face. He knows there’s no point continuing to stall. Allura was right. He just has to ask.

Lance sits up and switches back to the messaging app, and starts typing.

********************************************************************************************************************************************

It’s the first Thursday of the month. To be more specific, it’s the third first Thursday of the month in the Monthly Movie Night rotation, which means Keith is hosting. Shiro and Adam are snuggled on one end of the couch, Pidge is sprawled across the floor with her usual pillow nest surrounding her. Keith wedges himself as far into the opposite end of the couch from the happy couple as he can. He doesn’t need their disgusting love cooties all over him. Kosmo rests at his feet beside Pidge’s nest, occasionally lifting his head for pets from Keith, as though Pidge isn’t showering him with love every minute she’s here.

The rules of Monthly Movie Night are these: Host picks the movie, previous host brings snacks, next host brings drinks. Adam and Shiro are a unit since Adam came into the picture after the rotation and rules were already established. Keith, Pidge, and Shiro had been having these movie nights since Keith was in college, even if it was virtual for a while when they were a bit further apart.

They’re watching Back to the Future, because Keith wanted the comfort of a classic. Something familiar and predictable after the stress of the last week.

Marty was just meeting his mom in the past when Keith’s phone goes off. The Notification. Shiro glances over at him with a knowing look. Keith ignores it. He’s nearly jumping out of his skin to read L’s message but he won’t give Shiro the satisfaction. He can wait. He’s an adult, with self control. He doesn’t _have_ to read L’s message right this minute. He’s fine. It’s fine.

“Keith check your goddamn phone, your anxious squirming is jostling my nest!” Pidge grumbles from the floor.

Keith works to still his bouncing leg. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Give it up Keith, I know you have your secret boyfriend’s messages set to that tone. I don’t give a fuck though I do need to give approval before you get engaged. Just read the message.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Pidge, you knew too?” The amusement in Shiro’s voice is palpable as he leans around Adam to look at Pidge.

“Keith has all the subtlety of a wrecking ball, so yeah, I know about the messages he doesn’t ever mention to anyone.”

“Oh my god I’m kicking all of you out.” Keith pauses the movie since no one is paying attention anymore anyway and practically leaps off the couch and almost tripping over Kosmo in his attempt to escape.

“Why am I the last to know about Keith’s secret boyfriend?” Adam looks betrayed which is hilarious considering Keith is the one being stabbed in the back by his best friends.

“I do NOT HAVE a secret boyfriend!” Keith promptly slams his bedroom door. He knows this escape is only temporary. There is zero chance that any of them leave, and even less chance that Shiro doesn’t force him to finally talk about this the minute he leaves this room. But he can’t deal with that stress AND the stress of not knowing what L said, so he sits on his bed and pulls up the message that just came through.

Dear friend,

I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Shocking, I know. 

I want you to know that this isn’t an impulse decision on my part. We’ve been talking for a few years now. I feel like I know you K, and I know you know me, maybe better than anyone.

I was thinking back to how we met, and our first conversations. We’ve come such a long way since then, since we decided to keep things anonymous.

I need you to know that your friendship is so important to me, so if you want to keep things the way they are, I’m more than happy with that.

But, if you wanted to, I’d really like the chance to meet you.

Any chance you could meet me at this address Saturday at 8pm?

Let me know.

Your friend,

L

Keith can’t breathe. All he can do is stare at his phone. He might be gripping it a bit too tightly, but he’s lost control over his limbs.

L wants to meet. Face to face. In person. He wants to meet Keith.

In a daze, Keith looks up the address, though he already knows it looks familiar.

When his search finally loads, the artsy sign for Frida’s Restaurant is staring back at him. The one that Keith’s been to a million times. The one that L wants to meet at. 

He cannot breathe.

Keith bursts out of his room to find Shiro, Adam, and Pidge already staring at him. He throws his phone at Shiro who manages to dislodge his arm from Adam and catch it because he isn’t human.

Keith’s on autopilot at this point, his mind just a stream of _I’d really like the chance to meet you_ and the image of Frida’s Restaurant. He goes to the kitchen and grabs one of the beers that Shiro and Adam brought over. He takes one look at the bottle before putting it back and pulling the Vodka out of his cabinet. He pours a big shot into a glass and slams it back, then returns to his living room where Shiro, Adam, and Pidge are all huddled around his phone. Keith hadn’t even registered Kosmo following him to the kitchen, but he notices him now, nudging at the back of Keith’s thigh.

Keith plops down on the floor and pulls Kosmo into his lap. Running his fingers through Kosmo’s fur with his weight pressed against him always helps calm Keith. 

“Keith,” at Shiro’s voice, Keith looks up again. He doesn’t bother trying to decipher the three expressions turned toward him, Keith’s phone still clutched between them. “I think it’s time you explain to us what exactly is going on here.”

Keith takes a deep breath, soaking up Kosmo’s familiar scent.

“I met L about two years ago on an anonymous messaging app. At first he was just annoying, always trying to get a rise out of me. But we kept talking, and eventually the bickering and ribbing each other became real conversations, so we kinda became anonymous online pen pals I guess? We never shared any information like names, ages, occupations, we just…talked. Basically everyday. I never told anyone because…because my friendship with L was something I got all on my own. I didn’t need an after-school program or Shiro’s meddling to connect with someone for once, it was just natural. And it was mine, and I just wanted to keep it that way.”

There’s a moment of silence while they absorb the information, then Shiro asks, “Do you want to meet him?”

“Yes.” Keith answers with no hesitation. He might be completely shocked by L’s request, might need some time to really process what this means for their friendship, but he knows his answer will be yes, whenever he finally gathers the guts to write back.

“Ok then. I’m going with you.”

“Shiro—”

“Not as a chaperone, just emotional support. And maybe to get a quick look at this guy and make sure he isn’t bad news. But don’t worry, I won’t be crashing your date.”

Keith buries his face in Kosmo’s fur, hoping his fluffiness will hide the blush creeping up his neck. “It’s not a date, we’re just going to meet. I don’t even know if he’s into men, or remotely near my age, though I feel like he is. Anyway he didn’t say it was a date, so.”

“But you want it to be?” Adam asks, eyebrows lurching up and down in a manner that Keith can only guess is meant to be suggestive.

“Of course not, I’ve never met the guy.” Keith says what he’s supposed to say, even as he feels his face heat up, giving him away.

“And yet you clearly have a raging crush on the guy,” Pidge observes, settling back into her pillow nest.

“So I’m just gonna go ahead and address the elephant in the room.” Adam sits up, excitement shining in his eyes, like Keith’s life is one of the soaps he secretly loves to watch. “The address he gave you to meet is Frida’s. What if you’ve already met him?”

“I think I’d know if I had met the person I’ve been having daily conversations with for two years now.” Even as Keith says it, he can’t deny that the thought has been spinning through his head since he saw the address in L’s message.

“How could you, you just said you haven’t shared any details about yourselves.”

“Just because I don’t know what he looks like or what he does for a living doesn’t mean I wouldn’t recognize him. I _know_ him. L isn’t like other people, he’s kind and observant and both full of himself and self-deprecating at the same time, he’s passionate and—”

Keith cuts off abruptly as his brain catches up to his mouth, and notices the open-mouthed stares aimed at him from his friends.

“Holy shit you really are in love with a stranger from the internet,” Pidge says, her voice just above a whisper yet still filling the silence around them.

Keith feels that he’s pouting but he can’t help it. “He’s not a stranger Pidge. I just don’t know his name. Yet.” The possibilities held within that ‘yet’ make Keith’s stomach stir with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. He digs his fingers deeper into Kosmo’s fur.

“Well, I think it’s fair to say that none of us will be able to focus on the rest of the movie tonight, least of all Keith,” Shiro says as he rises from the couch and approaches Keith with his phone. “So why don’t you work on your response while we work on the snacks Pidge brought and provide emotional support?”

Keith accepts his phone and looks back at the words L sent him, the words that have tipped his whole world on its axis.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Anticipation builds in Keith’s gut as he thinks on how to reply, but surprisingly (considering how reluctant he was to share L before) Keith is glad that his friends know now, and that he has their support in this.

He starts typing.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

It’s Saturday. 7:45 PM. L said he’d be waiting at a table at Frida’s in a blue collared shirt with a brown jacket, and a copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy on the table. It’s one of the things they connected over early on, their shared love of the story.

Keith’s walking toward the restaurant with Shiro at his side, wearing the sixth outfit he tried on as Shiro had assured him he’d look fine in any of the ten options he’d strewn about his room. Cleaning up that mess was future Keith’s problem.

As that familiar sign comes into view, Keith slows to a stop.

“Shiro what if this is a mistake? What if we meet and he decides he wants nothing to do with me?”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine Keith,” Shiro turns to face him, standing directly in front of him and forcing Keith’s eyes on his face rather than the restaurant door a few feet ahead. “You said so yourself, you two know each other. Meeting isn’t going to ruin what you two have. From what I can tell it’s pretty special. I may have only read that one message from him, but it’s clear this ‘L’ guy cares about you, and your friendship. It’s gonna be ok.”

Keith takes a deep breath and looks straight back into Shiro’s eyes, feeling a bit like a kid again, about to do his first audition for college.

“Ok. Ok, you’re right. You’re always right.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Shiro, do you think you could…” Keith hesitates, considering, “do you think you could take a look through the window and just let me know if you see him?”

Shiro smiles reassuringly and grips Keith’s shoulders, holding him steady as people pass by them on the sidewalk. “I absolutely can do that for you. Stay here.” He pats Keith’s shoulder and steps away to look through the window. Keith doesn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed at how obvious Shiro is, he’s too busy being the living embodiment of nerves.

“I see him.”

“Are you sure?” Keith resists the urge to run over and be just as obvious in seeking L out.

“Absolutely, blue shirt, brown jacket, copy of the book on the table. He’s handsome.”

“Shiro” Keith groans, though secretly he relishes this small bit of approval from one of the most important people in his life.

“Seriously Keith, and he looks right around your age, you sure you won’t go full gay panic on him?” Shiro looks back, a teasing look in his eye.

“No,” Keith mutters under his breath. He can feel his pulse beginning to race already and he hasn’t even seen him yet. Keith always assumed L would be attractive but hearing the confirmation, and that he’s near Keith’s age, just makes all of this more real. “Is he looking?” Keith asks at a volume Shiro will hear.

“No he seems pretty focused on his phone.”

Keith takes the few steps to reach Shiro and peers through the window to the restaurant. He scans the tables for a second, but then he sees the book, the brown and blue outfit, and the young man sitting at the table.

Ice races through Keith’s veins. “No,” he breaths out, his brain unable to comprehend what is sitting right in front of him. “Lance?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for the cliff hanger! I promise to try and get the next chapter out a bit quicker, I am itching to write it!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading 😄 I promise the boys will be interacting much more after this!
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on how this is all going, the boys' backstory, or just general Klance love in the comments 😊


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer one as penance for the cliff hanger 😂
> 
> You are welcome to scream at me in the comments!

“Lance? Like the Lance from the open mic that you’re always complaining about? Is he in there too?” Shiro starts scanning the other patrons in the restaurant as Keith’s world continues to crumble around him.

“Shiro. _That_ is Lance. In the blue shirt with the book on that table. That can’t be L. There has to be some mix-up.”

Keith can’t tear his eyes away from Lance, still staring at his phone, still sitting there wearing L’s jacket with L’s book on the table. It’s gotta be some cosmic joke, a bizarre coincidence from the world that loves to see Keith suffer.

“I’m going in,” Keith states before Shiro is able to break his shocked silence.

“What are you going to do?” Shiro asks, looking at Keith like he’s deciding between holding him back and following him in.

“I’m gonna figure out what the fuck Lance is doing here, and then I’m going to wait for L because _clearly_ he isn’t here yet.”

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Lance may have arrived a bit early to Frida’s on Saturday. Like twenty-six minutes early to be exact. He stood outside the door for another two minutes, found himself seated at a table in another four minutes, then spent another minute adjusting his jacket, checking his teeth in the reflection of his phone, and adjusting the position of his book on the table about twelve times. Once he’d found the perfect placement (lying down because standing up was too obvious, spine towards the door at an angle because straight parallel looked too purposeful) he immediately pulled out his phone for something he knew would hold all his attention: Flappy Bird. 

The way they arranged it, it was up to K to find him, so Lance wasn’t going to waste his energy watching every body that strode past the window, every person who came through the door, wondering if that person could be K. But the only way to keep himself from doing just that was to appeal to his competitive, stubborn nature and play the one game nothing could distract him from. 

So here he is, nine minutes in and having lost count of the number of birds he’s killed, when a body headed directly for him draws his attention.

The last thing Lance is expecting to see ten minutes before he is scheduled to meet his anonymous friend of two years and possible crush, is a pissed-off Keith storming toward him like a man on a mission. A deadly mission. A mission to murder Lance.

“Hey man, cool your jets, I don’t wanna fight with you right now!” Lance holds up his hands in a way he hopes is placating as Keith comes to a stop directly behind the empty seat across from Lance.

“Is this seat taken?” Keith asks brusquely, not even waiting for an answer before loudly scraping the chair across the floor and practically shoving himself into it.

“Um, yes, it is taken, thank you very much! I’m supposed to be meeting someone soon so you need to leave!” Lance does not understand what is happening right now. All previous encounters with Keith have followed a pattern. Keith ignores him, Keith avoids him, Keith leaves as quickly as possible. Never has Keith willingly interacted so why the fuck does he have to start _now_!

“Who are you meeting?” Keith leans across the table, a seriousness burning in his eyes that Lance has never seen.

“None of your business, Mullet! God, who are you, my mother?!” Lance waits for Keith to say something rude and leave, but he continues to sit in the chair, the exact chair that is meant for K, who could get here any minute!

“What’s with the book?” Keith nudges _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ with his elbow. Lance reaches out and moves it back to the position he’d so painstakingly chosen.

“Am I not allowed to read a favorite book while I wait to meet up with someone?”

“You weren’t reading, you were on your phone.”

“Oh my god if I tell you why the book is here will you leave?!”

For a minute, Keith just stares at Lance. Somebody could offer Lance a million dollars to say what is going through Keith’s mind at that moment, and he would walk away exactly as poor as he currently is. His face gives nothing away, in the exact manner that always means a storm is brewing within. Lance has never been more confused in his life.

“Fine.” Keith settles back in his chair, face shifting from blank to expectant.

“The book is part of how my…friend is supposed to find me. The person I’m meeting here, I’ve never actually met before. But we both really like this book so I told him to meet me here and look for the book.” Lance doesn’t know why he shared that much. Probably his nerves about finally meeting K, compelling him to share these details with Keith of all people. He belatedly realizes he could have just lied, but it’s too late for that now.

Keith’s brows furrow, and he looks to Lance like he’s trying to solve some very complex math equation in his head. Lance doesn’t know or care what the heck is going on with Keith right now, he just needs the guy to leave, immediately.

“Ok, I told you what’s the deal with the book, now can you leave? My friend will be here any minute.”

Just then a waiter approaches the table with a glass of water and pitcher in hand, looking very much like he drew the short straw. He sets the glass in front of Keith and uses the pitcher to refill the half-inch of Lance’s water he’d drunk when he arrived. While he does this he asks “Can I get you anything to start or do you need a few minutes?”

“No no no no, nuh uh, sorry you got the wrong idea, Keith was just leaving—”

“Yeah can I get a green tea please?”

“To go, he’ll take it to go because he isn’t staying—”

“In a mug please, I’ll drink it here.”

“Dude!” Lance watches in shock as the waiter makes a hasty escape with Keith’s tea order. Keith, who is still sitting in K’s seat! 

“Why are you doing this to me?” Lance asks, and Keith has the gall to look confused. “You hate me, you act like my very presence is an afront to your existence, so why can’t you just leave, like you always do!”

If anything, Keith just looks more confused at this, like he hadn’t been privy to literally every interaction they’d had for the past two and a half weeks.

After a moment, Keith stood and pushed in his chair. Lance felt himself deflate against his seat, relief turning his previously taut muscles to jelly. At least K didn’t show up while Keith was still sitting there. Unless he did and then left when he saw Lance with someone. The beginning of Lance’s panic is interrupted by his chair being bumped from behind.

“What the—"

Keith has sat himself in the chair at the table directly behind Lance, purposefully bumping Lance’s chair as he pulled his out to sit down. Keith settles in at his new table, ignoring Lance and assumedly waiting for his green tea.

“Hey!” Lance smacks Keith’s shoulder, forcing the other to look at him. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem” Keith bites back, “ _you_ are the one who insists on having a problem with me! Despite the fact that you don’t even know me.”

“Look I don’t expect you to care, but this person I’m meeting is really important to me, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ruin my evening anymore than you already have!”

“If this person’s so important why isn’t he here?”

“I’m sure he’s on his way. And even if he is running late, I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason. He’s kind, and considerate, and absolutely nothing like you.”

“You sure about that? According to you you’ve never met the guy. We could have more in common than you think.”

“Yes I’m sure Keith! I know him, alright? You wouldn’t understand.”

“You might be surprised.”

“I really doubt you could surprise me Mullet, I’ve had you figured out since day one.”

At this, Keith rises from his seat, and reclaims K’s chair across from Lance, leaning forward and speaking just above a whisper.

“Oh yeah, what do you think you know about me? Huh? What could you possibly know about me, we’ve never even had a real conversation!”

“And who’s fault is that?!” Lance notices he may have said that a bit too loud, and brings his volume down to match Keith’s. “You’re just a stuck up jerk who thinks he’s better than everyone else. Well news flash buddy, you’re just as insignificant as the rest of us!”

“Wow, thanks for clearing that up for me. On that note, I’m gonna go. Hope your friend shows up before the restaurant closes.” Keith stands, practically knocking the chair over with his abruptness. He throws some bills on the table to cover the tea he never got and leaves.

Lance stares after him, feeling strangely hollow inside. And for some reason, a bit guilty.

Lance can hardly believe how spectacularly bad this evening has gone. When K had agreed to meet him, and even confirmed he could be at Frida’s Restaurant this weekend, Lance couldn’t believe his luck. At best, he’d been expecting K to suggest a different way to meet because he couldn’t be here. At worst, well, Lance is just grateful K got back to him before he was able to spiral any further down those imaginings. But even as he fantasized all the different terrible outcomes that could occur from Lance asking K to meet, he’d never considered getting stood up.

Lance shakes his head to clear his thoughts, taking a sip of his water. K is not standing him up. He can’t let Keith get in his head like that. Any minute now, K is going to walk through that door, and come up to Lance, and ask if he’s L. Then he’ll sit down, and they’ll have a lovely evening together, talking just like they do over the phone, but face-to-face.

Lance smiles to himself and feels his stomach flutter. He’s waited two years for this night. He can wait as long as it takes for K to arrive.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

It takes until the next morning for Keith to regret every decision he made the night before, or possibly his entire life.

He can’t stop thinking of how rude he’d been. Which isn’t to say that Lance hadn’t been rude, but this time Keith had given him a reason to be. Given L a reason to be.

Even now that Keith could no longer deny that Lance and L were the same, it was so hard to reconcile the two in his mind.

When he wasn’t beating himself up for being so rude or trying to merge Lance and L in his head, Keith was repeating everything Lance had said about him over in his head. Not about Keith, he was actively trying not to think about what Lance had said about Keith. But what he’d said about K.

_This person I’m meeting is really important to me. He’s kind, and considerate. I know him._

And though Keith had been too worked up to really absorb it at the time, Lance’s expression when he talked about K had taken on a soft fondness, under all the frustration and urgency. Keith had never seen Lance like that before. And he was talking about Keith, even if he didn’t know it.

Keith is starting to realize he might not know L as well as he thought he did, and he obviously doesn’t know Lance at all. He wants to change that.

But after last night and the last two weeks in general between him and Lance, Keith doesn’t feel like he can just come out and say that he’s K. He wants to get to know Lance without their history as K and L influencing it. But if he wants that to happen, he knows he’ll have to start by apologizing. Actually, he needs to apologize both as Keith and as K, because as far as Lance knows, K never showed last night.

Keith has too much energy inside him to sit down and type something out as K right now. He needs to move, he needs to do something. When he’s in moods like this he can’t even sit still enough to play at his keyboard.

Making a decision, Keith grabs his keys and heads out of his apartment.

*****************************************************************************************************************************

Keith steps into the familiar café for the first time since Lance yelled at him a few weeks ago. If he’s honest, he missed coming here, and he hopes he can work things out with Lance partially so he can stop avoiding the place.

A quick glance around the space shows that Lance isn’t here right now. His friend with the silver hair is manning the cash register, and Keith is lucky that it’s a slow moment so he can actually talk to her.

“Hi,” Keith says as he approaches the counter, a little unsure of how to proceed now that he’s here.

“Hello, how can I help you?” Keith glances from her friendly smile to the nametag on her apron.

“Allura, is it? I’m Keith.”

“Yes, I’m well aware, lovely to meet you, Keith. Can I get you a drink or pastry?”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” Keith fidgets with his keys in his pocket, and pushes through the anxiety screaming at him to just order his usual drink and leave. “Is um, is Lance working today?”

Allura pauses for a moment, considering. Her eyes look straight into Keith’s and he wonders what she sees there.

“No, he isn’t. In fact, he called in sick today. I’m quite worried about him actually.”

“He’s sick? Is he alright?”

“Well I’m sure he’ll be fine but I know for a fact he’s alone in his apartment as his roommate works today, and I won’t be able to check on him myself until my shift ends which isn’t for several hours. He sounded quite miserable when he called earlier.”

“I’m not doing anything today, maybe I could… I mean I know he hates me but, like you said, someone should really check on him if he’s that sick, so….” Keith feels like he might be crossing a boundary here, but the thought of Lance sick and alone after everything that happened last night? Keith really wants to make sure he’s alright.

“You’d go and check on him for me? That would be so kind of you Keith! I hate to ask, you are a customer here. At least let me give you a drink, on the house!”

“That’s really not necessary—”

“I insist!” Allura flits away to make Keith’s drink, despite the fact that he hasn’t even ordered yet, and Keith tries to wrap his mind around what just happened. He volunteered to go to Lance’s apartment, where he is alone and sick, and probably wanting to see literally anyone other than Keith. Maybe this isn’t the best idea.

“Here is my phone number and Lance’s address!” Allura hands Keith his drink and a piece of paper with the information. “If he doesn’t want to let you in just tell him Allura sent you and he owes me one.” Allura gives Keith a wink and promptly turns to greet the customer who so conveniently appeared at the counter just now.

“Um, thank you,” Keith calls after her. He takes a sip of the drink. The exact drink he always orders. She must have remembered somehow, even though Keith hasn’t been here in weeks. Keith pulls out his phone to enter Allura’s number, shooting her a quick “it’s Keith” text before typing Lance’s address into his navigation app. It won’t be too far on his bike. He just has a quick stop to make first.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************

Lance groans from his slumped position on the couch, jostling some wadded-up tissues as he slides even further into the sofa crease. No one is around to witness his misery, but that doesn’t mean he will suffer silently. 

He’d waited at Frida’s for over an hour last night, suffering through pitying looks from the wait staff until they kicked him out because they were closing. And to top it all off, it had been raining when he finally left and he had to walk home with his book tucked in his jacket to keep it dry. He’d arrived home soaked and heartbroken, not a single message from K to explain his absence.

Hunk had done what he could to make Lance comfortable before leaving for work this morning, setting him up with a rom com to watch (Lance’s go-to comfort genre), making sure the cold medicine was nearby, and even letting Lance use his special extra soft tissues. Despite this, Lance’s nose feels raw, his eyes are tight from crying, and his head aches, also likely from the crying. He just can’t help but feel like he’s ruined everything with K, one of the best parts of his life, and for what? A stupid crush Lance can’t handle, like he’s some pre-teen with raging hormones.

The sounds of Roman Holiday and Lance’s misery are interrupted suddenly by his apartment buzzer. Lance isn’t expecting anyone so he ignores it, probably some food delivery person who wasn’t given instructions for buzzing in. But a few moments later, it buzzes again. And again.

“Uughaghuagh,” Lance groans, pausing the movie before slowly dragging himself off the couch and pulling his blanket around his shoulders as he shuffles toward the buzzer in his favorite lion slippers. He jabs the talk button with more force than strictly necessary. “What do you want?!”

“It’s Keith, Allura sent me.”

With a yelp, Lance jumps away from the buzzer, staring at his finger like the button had shocked him physically. What the heck was Keith doing here?! Allura sent him?? That doesn’t make any sense!

“Lance? You there?”

Keith’s voice continues to come from the tinny speaker. Lance has to get rid of him.

“Go away Keith, I’m sick. Not taking visitors.”

“I know, that’s why Allura asked me to check on you. She mentioned you were sick and alone when I stopped by the café this morning and I didn’t have any plans today so…” Keith tapers off at the end like he isn’t sure what else to say. Lance can’t blame him, nothing about this situation could possibly be explained in any logical sort of way.

“She also said to tell you that you owe her one…”

Shit. Damn Allura for using his emotional debts against him at a time like this!

Lance presses the talk button again. “Well you can tell Allura I’m alive still. Thanks for checking in.”

“Actually I have something for you…could you buzz me up?”

Lance steps away from the talk button and gesticulates wildly to release these confused, frustrated emotions building inside him. What. Is. Happening??? Why is Keith even here? Why would he care that Lance is sick? And why would he do Allura a favor, Lance didn’t even think Keith knew Allura’s name! Lance sighs and drags a hand down his face, accepting that nothing makes sense anymore and the quickest way to get Keith to leave is to let him come up and drop off whatever he brought.

Lance presses the button to let Keith up, then immediately remembers his apartment is a wreck from all his sick, heartbroken misery.

He dashes back to the couch and gathers all the scattered used tissues, dumping them in the trash. Then he looks down, remembering he’s wearing pajamas and runs to his room to throw his robe on over, tying it at the waist just as he hears a knock on his apartment door.

Taking a steadying breath, Lance marches to his door and pulls it open.

Keith has the good sense to look sheepish on the other side of the threshold, a grocery bag at his side the only hint of what mysterious object he brought for Lance. The sheepish expression shifts to concern as he takes in Lance’s red eyes and nose, and the general aura of misery surrounding him.

When he doesn’t say anything, Lance takes the lead. “So what? You here to say I told you so? Rub some salt in the wound? Kick me while I’m down?”

“What, no! Of course not,” Keith says, looking mildly offended that Lance would suggest the most likely reason for this entire situation.

“Just go ahead and get it over with, then leave me to suffer in peace.” Lance walks away from the door, leaving it open, and makes his way back to the couch, falling onto it face-first and slowly wiggling into a more comfortable position.

Lance hears the door click closed as Keith steps into the apartment, then the rustle of the grocery bag as Keith sets it down.

“I’m not here to say I told you so.”

“You may as well. You were right, after all.” Lance’s voice is muffled by the couch cushion his face is smooshed into. Like this, he can almost imagine Keith isn’t here, and he’s just talking to himself. “My friend never showed last night. But honestly, what did I expect? This is just how things go for me. I always care more, and then I ask for too much, and then they leave. Think I’d be used to it by now.” Lance feels the tears building behind his eyes again, shocked that there are any left after last night and this morning.

“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything Lance.” Keith’s voice is closer than Lance expected. He shifts a bit and glances up, surprised to see Keith standing at the foot of the couch leaning toward him slightly, almost like he’s holding himself still from coming any closer. Weird.

“What would you know about it?” Lance asks, sniffling.

“Well…. Last night, when I left Frida’s, there was someone outside.”

Lance stiffens, interest piqued against his will. He clings to an air of indifference to protect himself against useless hope. “So what? I’m sure there were lots of people outside, it’s a big city.”

“Well this person was watching me as I left… and he followed me to my bike. I confronted him and he asked about you.”

Lance sits up at this, fully facing Keith, sure he has some pathetic and desperate expression on his face, but unable to care at the moment.

“He asked about me?”

“Yeah, he asked if I was with the young man in the brown jacket with the copy of _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ on the table.”

“Well what did you say?!” Lance scoots to one side of the couch and pats the other cushion for Keith to sit down on before reaching to the side table for a tissue to blow his nose. He needs every detail of this interaction immediately. This man must have been K!

Keith moves around the couch and sits, looking hesitantly at Lance’s hopeful expression.

“I said that we’d been talking but I wasn’t with you, you were waiting for someone else. Then he told me that he was pretty sure you were waiting for him, and that he felt awful because…because he couldn’t bring himself to go inside.”

“What?! Why not? Was it me? Was I not what he expected?”

“No! No no, it wasn’t you it was, it was that he had urgent business, it came up last minute but he just…he couldn’t bring himself to tell you and disappoint you.”

“Urgent business? Maybe that’s why I haven’t heard from him yet, maybe he’s still dealing with whatever came up last night!” Lance can feel the smile stretching across his face, but he can’t help it. He didn’t ruin things with K! Lance feels absolutely giddy with the news.

Glancing up at Keith, Lance realizes how strange it is that they’re sitting so close, and that they aren’t even arguing. Slowly, Lance remembers all the awful things he said to Keith last night.

“Hey man, thanks for telling me that. It really means a lot.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Keith shifts awkwardly from his seat across the couch, likely realizing how strange this situation is for them as well.

“I want to apologize for my behavior last night. I know we don’t like each other or whatever but the things I said were uncalled for. I didn’t mean them, I was just nervous and taking out my worries on you.”

“No Lance, I need to apologize to you,” Keith shifts to face Lance more fully, the earnest expression on his face proving his sincerity, “the way I acted last night was immature, and I don’t really have any excuse for it, I shouldn’t have antagonized you like that, and I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’ll only accept your apology if you accept mine, Mullet.”

Keith chuckles a little under his breath, the smallest smile Lance has ever seen gracing his lips. “Deal.”

For a second Lance just stares a Keith, he looks like a completely different person with his eyebrows relaxed instead of scrunched, his eyes looking all soft and vulnerable, that barely-there smile aimed right at Lance. (He still looks just as hot though, a small, traitorous part of Lance’s brain whispers).

Lance coughs to the side and stands up, shuffling toward the kitchen just to dispel whatever weirdness just settled between them.

“Do you, uh, do you want some water or anything?”

“No, I’m fine. Lance sit down, you’re sick.” A hand lands on Lance’s shoulder, halting his slow shuffle and gently directing him back to the couch. “Sit here, I’ll bring over what I brought you.”

Lance feels the heat in his face and chooses to ignore it. Instead he thinks back to what Keith had said about K. He wants to know more, can’t believe Keith got to meet him and Lance didn’t.

“So, about the man you met outside the restaurant….did he um, did he give you like a name or anything…?” Lance is aiming for nonchalant and can tell he fails miserably.

“No, we didn’t introduce ourselves. He just asked about you and then left,” Keith calls from the kitchen, where sounds of rummaging pique Lance’s curiosity but not enough to distract him from his present line of questioning. 

“Oh.” Lance fights past the disappointment, he’ll learn K’s name eventually. He just has to be patient. “Well was he—I mean how did he…look?” Lance cringes at himself for the question but his curiosity is _killing him_.

“Well I mean it was kinda dark.” Keith appears through the kitchen door, a spoon in one hand and what looks like a pint of ice cream in the other. “Couldn’t really tell much.”

“Come on Keith you’re killing me here, can’t you tell me anything about him?” Lance is not above begging, at this point he’s already embarrassed himself beyond repair. Not that he cares what Keith thinks anyway.

Keith settles back onto the couch, still holding the spoon and pint. “He looked….big.”

“Big? Big how, like tall? Muscular? Grizzled?”

“No not really, just kind of…large.”

“Large?”

“Yeah well it looked like he was wearing layers so it was hard to tell.”

“Well that tells me absolutely nothing,” Lance huffed, slouching into the couch.

“He seemed…mature.”

Lance glances at Keith out of the corner of his eye, taking in his hesitant expression, and the way he awkwardly fiddles with the spoon still in his hand.

“Mature like old?”

“Mature like….mature! I don’t know Lance, what do you want me to say?!”

“Nothing! Just forget it, I don’t want you to say anything. You obviously didn’t get a good look at the guy, and it’s not like it matters anyway. The way he looks isn’t important.” Lance says this last bit mostly to himself. “So!” Lance sits up and faces Keith again, ready for a distraction, “what did you bring me anyway?”

Keith looks down at the objects in his hands, as if just remembering they are there. “Oh! Here.” He shoves the spoon and pint toward Lance. “It’s vanilla ice cream. It always makes me feel better when I’m sick so I thought…anyway, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

Lance snatches the ice cream and spoon before Keith can retract the offer, “Dude vanilla is my favorite! And Kaltenecker Farms makes the very best, thanks man! Did Allura tip you off?” Lance rips off the lid and digs the spoon into the soft ice cream, immediately popping it into his mouth and moaning involuntarily.

After a moment of silence from Keith, Lance glances over at him. His face looks a bit pinker than it had a minute ago, and his eyes flicker across the room right as Lance looks at him. Lance raises an eyebrow in question but is too focused on his ice cream to comment on it.

“No, she didn’t mention it, just a lucky guess,” Keith mumbles toward the television, where Roman Holiday is still frozen on the screen.

Lance continues to demolish the ice cream, unconsciously making pleased noises with each bite. At this point Lance has completely zoned out Keith’s presence, it just him, and his ice cream.

Until a loud coughing interrupts his private moment and reminds him of his guest.

“Well! I should go, I’m gonna leave.” Keith leaps from the couch and heads toward the door. Lance puts down his ice cream and stands to see Keith out, but Keith looks back and gestures for Lance to stay. “No, don’t get up, I can see myself out. I’ll let Allura know you’re doing alright.”

“Oh, ok,” Lance had completely forgotten that Keith was only here so he could report back to Allura. He’d even forgotten how weird and awkward it should have been to be around Keith without arguing. “Thanks for stopping by, and for the ice cream, you really didn’t have to.”

“It was my pleasure,” Keith speaks even as he takes hasty steps toward the door. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. See ya, Lance.”

“Yeah, see ya,” and with that, Keith let himself out the door and was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features another open mic! However I couldn't find a song for Keith so I had to make something up myself. But Lance's peformance was inspired by a video so here's the link for that: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPe-GnVVTpE&list=LL&index=48
> 
> Hope you enjoy! I would love to hear your thoughts and reactions in the comments :D

“He loves me.”

Shiro stands before Keith, having just opened the door that Keith knocked on moments earlier. But Keith doesn’t see Shiro, not really. All Keith has been able to see since leaving Lance’s apartment are the raw emotions that played across Lance’s face throughout his visit. Keith had been shocked to see the evidence that Lance had been crying when he first answered the door, and was completely blindsided by Lance’s sorrow, and hope, and joy as he’d talked with Keith about K. 

Now, as the reality of his visit finally sinks in, Keith feels elation and guilt in equal measure. Elation is winning out though, because Keith knows he will make it up to Lance. He’s determined to.

“Who?

Oh right, Shiro. He’s at Shiro’s, he knocked on Shiro’s door, Shiro answered, Shiro is standing in front of him with confused eyebrows because Keith just said... 

“He loves me, Shiro, I can’t believe it!” Keith pushes past Shiro into his apartment, heading straight to the couch and flopping onto it, not unlike how Lance had slumped onto his own couch when Keith had first arrived. Lance had been so sad, and vulnerable, and cute that Keith had to hold himself back from scooping him up, holding him tight, and assuring him everything would be alright. Instead he could only do one of those things, but that would change soon enough, because—

“Lance, L, he loves me Shiro, I saw it! You wouldn’t believe how upset he was that K didn’t show up last night, he was completely heartbroken but then when I told him what happened, he lit up so brightly he could outshine the stars Shiro, he’s so goddamn beautiful I—”

“Wait wait wait, hold up Keith, you told him you are K?” Shiro had followed Keith away from the doorway and was standing at the entrance to the living room, staring at Keith like he hardly recognizes him. Keith twists on the couch and moves to sit up.

“What? No of course not, that’s insane. I can’t just tell him I’m K, he hates me.”

“You just said he loves you!”

“He loves _K_ , Shiro, he hates Keith.”

“But _you_ are Keith. So how can you know he loves you, if he hates you?”

“Just because he doesn’t know he loves me yet, doesn’t change the fact that he does.”

Shiro drags a hand over his face and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “I’m too old for this” as he turns and heads to the kitchen. Keith grabs a pillow sitting next to him on the couch and hugs it, lifting his legs to sit criss cross on the couch, squeezing the pillow in an attempt to deal with the feelings exploding inside him right now.

Keith has never felt like this before. He can actually _feel_ his heart, like there is a warm sensation in his heart-region, _is that normal???_ There’s a tingling energy simmering beneath his skin, urging him to proclaim to anyone who will listen that Lance loves him! Or better yet, run right back to Lance’s apartment and stay by his side. But he can’t. Because Lance doesn’t know yet. And Keith can’t tell him.

Shiro returns and sits on the couch beside Keith with two mugs, handing one to Keith. The mug is warm in Keith’s hand and smells of his favorite tea. It helps center him, soothing some of his urgency.

“So,” Shiro says, “Lance, the guy you’ve complained about non-stop for the past three weeks, is L, your online friend for the past two years who you’re in love with. And now you’re convinced he’s in love with you, but doesn’t realize it because he thinks he hates you.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“And knowing that L is Lance hasn’t changed the way you feel about him? When you saw him last night you were furious.”

“At first, I thought it did.” Keith takes a sip of his tea as a moment to gather his thoughts, focusing on the warmth moving through him and gathering in his stomach, calming the butterflies summoned with each thought of Lance being L. “I thought that Lance and L being the same person didn’t make any sense, that I must really not know L as well as I thought I did if he could be the same guy who’s been aggravating me for weeks. But after thinking about it all last night, and considering our conversations at the restaurant and today in his apartment, I’m starting to think there’s some piece here I’m not seeing that will make it all make sense.”

“Hold on, what do you mean your conversation at his apartment?”

“Oh, well I tried to find Lance this morning to talk to him about last night, and I found out from his friend that he’s sick and home alone, so I offered to go check on him. I took him ice cream, because L once told me that I had to try Kaltenecker’s Vanilla Ice Cream because it was, quote, out-of-this-world delicious. Good thing I stopped for it too, because he wouldn’t have let me up to his apartment if I hadn’t bribed him with a gift.”

Keith leaves out the fact that L had also described the ice cream as “orgasmic” and tries not to replay the image of Lance taking that first bite of ice cream through his head…again...

“Ok, so if you didn’t tell him you’re K, what did you tell him?”

Keith fiddles with his mug, twisting and tipping the handle and watching the tea slosh around inside.

“I, uh… I may have panicked a bit because he sounded like he was about to start crying, so I made up a story about meeting K outside the restaurant?”

“You did what now?”

“You know I don’t do well with crying Shiro, what was I supposed to do!”

“I don’t know, maybe something that didn’t convince him that K is some guy who is not you?”

“I can’t tell him I’m K, Shiro!”

“Why not? You found out he’s L and you’re fine with it.”

“You don’t know him, Shiro, Lance is stubborn as hell and he takes things really personally, even if he acts like it doesn’t bother him. If I tell him I’m K now, he’ll be so caught up on the disaster we’ve been the past three weeks in person that he’ll let that overshadow everything we have as L and K and avoid me entirely. He’ll probably convince himself it’s his fault somehow, too. I have to prove to him that Lance and Keith can at least get along before I even think about telling him I’m K.”

Shiro’s hand lands heavy on Keith’s shoulder, and when Keith turns to face him, he finds an amused exasperation that he is very familiar with.

“Only you Keith. Only you would manage to end up in such a convoluted love/hate relationship with someone.”

Keith chuckles, “Yeah, well. Me _and_ Lance apparently. Takes two to love/hate tango.”

“So if you’re refusing to tell him the truth…what _are_ you going to do?”

And that’s the question, isn’t it? How is Keith going to convince Lance they don’t actually hate each other? How can he make it so that they _actually_ get to know each other rather than avoiding each other or constantly being at each other’s throats?

“I think I have an idea.”

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Vanilla ice cream.

In what universe did frickin’ vanilla ice cream have this kind of power? It’s been a few days since Keith showed up at Lance’s apartment and ever since, Lance hasn’t been able to stop thinking about vanilla ice cream.

Not even clearing things up with K could hold his attention for long before his thoughts would drift back to that damn vanilla ice cream. K did message him later that same day Keith had stopped by, apologizing and explaining he was slammed with some important project for work that got crazy at the last minute, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d have to deal with it. They’d agreed to reschedule when things calmed down for him, and Lance was finally able to stop agonizing over getting stood up on Saturday. Which, unfortunately, left plenty of time for agonizing over vanilla ice cream…..

Why did Keith bring it? Why did he even come by at all? What did it mean? Lance knows he’s been maybe a bit obsessive about the whole ice cream thing (to the point where Hunk nearly banned the words “vanilla ice cream” from being spoken in his presence), but Lance just doesn’t. understand.

Thankfully tonight is open mic, and he’s seated at a small table with Allura this time. Hunk has a virtual date with Shay back home and Allura found someone to cover her shift so she could come see Lance play, on the condition that he play the song she requested. Open mic means Lance isn’t sitting in his room obsessing over the meaning of ice cream. Unfortunately, open mic also means that Lance has to see Keith again for the first time since the ice cream incident.

“Lance.” Allura’s deadpan of his name tells Lance that is likely not her first attempt to get his attention. Whoops.

“’Lura!” Lance gives her his brightest smile, emanating as much enthusiasm as possible to make up for his distracted state.

“Honestly, I may as well sit at a different table entirely for how little you’d notice.” Allura crosses her arms, pouting in that way that’s mostly for show and not from genuine hurt.

“Ugh, sorry ‘Lura, please don’t go!” Lance leans across the table pulling Allura’s arm free from her pouting pose, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. “I promise, I’m paying attention now. And if I’m not it’s your fault anyway, so.”

“Lance, we’ve been over this. I asked Keith to check if you were ok, the fact that he bought you your favorite ice cream and the two of you got along for once was beyond my control! Though if I did have the power to make that happen I totally would have.”

“Ok ‘got along’ might be a bit of a stretch, it’s not like we hung out. We’re not friends or anything, we just managed to be around each other for a few minutes without wanting to murder each other. No big deal.”

“Mmmhmm, then why are you still thinking about it several days later? I just hope your distraction doesn’t affect your performance. I’ll be recording it for the mice, you know it’s one of their favorite songs!”

“Only you would have pet mice that love contemporary musicals. You’re lucky they have good taste.”

“Oh hush, you love Platt, Chulatt, Plachu, and Chuchule, and they wouldn’t even know this musical if you hadn’t spent that week singing the songs your every waking moment!”

“Fine, fine, you win! I’ll make sure the song is extra good just for the mice, you happy?”

“Extremely.” Allura smiles with a smugness that Lance finds suspicious, but before he can question her, the door to the performance space opens, and Keith walks in.

If Lance didn’t know better, he’d say that his life became a romance film as Keith’s eyes meet his. For a moment, they both just stare, Keith’s expression unreadable as he stands in the doorway. And wow, Lance really needs to lay off the rom coms if some accidental eye contact is making him feel there could ever be anything between him and mullet-man. It takes more effort than he wants to admit, but Lance tears his eyes away and back to Allura.

Allura, whose smug smile has amplified in the few seconds Lance looked away.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Lance glares at her, mentally increasing Hunks ranking in his Best Friend competition.

Keith sits at a table a few away from theirs, not that Lance notices. The host approaches the mic, reminds everyone of the sign-up sheet for the Duet Competition, then calls Keith to the stage.

The Duet Competition. Lance has a plan. Genius in its simplicity. He’s starting to recognize the regulars here, so after tonight’s performances, whoever he feels might gel with him the best, he will charm with his irresistible charisma and convince them to write a song with him, and win the competition. Easy-peasy.

Keith is seated at the keyboard, adjusting the mic, and Lance lets himself wonder, just for a moment, if Keith will enter the competition, and who he would want to write with. Then he quickly shoves those thoughts in a box, locks it, and pushes it to a dark corner of his mind to never be seen again. It doesn’t matter if Keith competes, or who he writes with. Lance is winning this thing. Lance and his future partner, anyway.

“Hi, I’m Keith. I wrote this song a while ago, but I keep coming back to it lately. It’s called Stranger.”

With that, Keith’s fingers meet the keys, and he begins to sing.

“Thought I knew the hand that I’d been dealt.  
Been ruled by the game since before I knew how to play.  
Saw the path I’d travel, packed a bag and planned it out.  
Never predicted I’d meet you along the way.”

Lance has found that Keith always has a look of fierce concentration while he plays. Like he zones out everything else in the room, and the world shrinks to just him and the keys. This time though, this time is different.

“Strange the way you see me, though you’ve never seen me.  
Stranger still how I can see you, too.  
Strange how I am stronger now and stranger that I feel  
That Stranger, you’re the one I owe it to.”

This time while Keith plays, he keeps glancing up. And maybe Lance is going crazy, but it feels like Keith keeps glancing up at him.

“Who knew that this person lived inside me?  
How did you know how to bring him out?  
Why is it that suddenly I don’t know  
What I’d do without this stranger now?”

The song is instilled with a sense of wonder, a tentative hopefulness expressed through the keys and the melody. Lance can tell that whatever this song was about, it was a huge moment in Keith’s life, something so big he had to work it out through song. Lance knows the feeling.

The second verse is followed by an instrumental bridge, Keith’s fingers dance along the keys in a melody that encapsulates everything Keith must have felt then, and forces the audience to feel it with him now.

“Strange the way you see me, though you’ve never seen me.  
Stranger still how I can see you, too.  
Strange how I am stronger now and stranger that I feel  
That Stranger, you’re the one I owe it to.”

Keith holds out the final note, letting the piano resolve underneath it before tapering off.

Everyone applauds and cheers, and Lance joins on autopilot. His mind is playing through Keith’s performance again. There’s something about that song….the chorus in particular reminds Lance so much of his relationship with K. 

This is why Lance loves music, it’s such an amazing way to express the experiences that make people who they are, and a way to see his own experiences reflected back to him in the music of others. Really just shows how interconnected life is. Not that Lance feels a connection with Keith or anything, it’s just like, a general connection with humanity, obviously.

The next musician plays a cover of Eleanor Rigby, and the person after plays an original about all the food in his fridge that he never manages to finish, which has everyone cracking up.

Lance doesn’t think either of them are the person he should team up with for the Duet Competition, but now it’s his turn to play so he grabs his guitar and heads to the stage.

“Hey everyone, I’m Lance!” He gives the crowd a wave and sees that Allura is already recording from her phone. “Today I’m here with my friend ‘Lura, and she requested I cover this song for her.”

Lance adjusts his guitar and begins to play. It’s been a while since he played or sang this song, but as Allura pointed out, there was a while where Lance was mildly obsessed with a few of the songs from this musical, so it comes back to him easily.

“Say there’s this person you pass in the hall everyday  
You’ve known him since seventh grade  
You’re used to thinking about him in a certain way  
From the persona that he displays  
And then something changes, and he changes”

Lance briefly wonders if he should be embarrassed as a guy in his mid-twenties singing a song from the perspective of a high school girl with a crush. But it’s a fun song! Very catchy, as evidenced by the audience members already bobbing and swaying along. Lance is moving to the music a bit himself, really making a performance of it and getting into character. He moves to the chorus.

“From a guy that you’d never be into  
Into a guy that you’d kinda be into  
From a guy that I’d never be into  
Into a guy that I’d kinda be into  
Is he worth it? Jeremy, is he?”

During the instrumental bar between the chorus and second verse, Lance glances over at Allura. She is absolutely beaming from behind her phone, and it warms Lance to see her having such a good time. As he glances away and begins the second verse, he happens to notice Keith.

“Say there’s this person that you never knew that well”

Keith is sitting sideways in his chair and leaning against the wall, so he’s facing Lance directly.

“You thought that you had him pegged, but now you can tell”

Keith has this small smile on his face, and it twitches slightly when Lance’s eyes lock with his.

“He’s gone from  
A guy that you’d never be into  
Into a guy that you’d kinda be into”

Lance breaks the eye contact with Keith and glances down at his hands. He never looks at his hands while he plays, hasn’t had to for years, but it can’t hurt to just, like, check and make sure they’re doing what they’re supposed to. Yep, looks good.

“From a guy that I’d never be into  
Into a guy that I’d kinda be into”

Wow, is it getting hot up here? Lance is pretty sure the stage lights were just turned up. It definitely wasn’t this hot up here a moment ago. He’s into the bridge now, just a bit more to go.

“There are so many changes that I’m going through  
And why am I telling this to you?  
Guess there’s a part of me wants to”

Lance always enjoys this outro bit, the repeating phrase allows lots of room to play with the vocals, add riffs, have fun with it!

“I guess a part of me wants to  
Who knew?  
I guess a part of me likes to talk to you”

Lance looks out to the crowd again and for some reason, locks on immediately to Keith. It’s just the table he sat it, it’s basically right across from the mic so of course Lance keeps seeing him, with his slouched posture and his soft smile and the way his hair falls over his face when he tilts his head like that.

“I guess a part of me wants to  
Who knew?  
I guess a part of me likes to hang with you  
I guess a part of me likes to, who knew?”

Man, Lance’s throat is getting dry. He forgot how long this song is, and with the added heat from the lights that were totally turned up, his voice is sounding a bit huskier than usual. Just a few more lines.

“The guy that I’d kinda be into  
Yeah that guy that I’d kinda be into  
Is... Jake.”

Laughs pass through the crowd as everyone claps and cheers, and Lance smiles, glad that people enjoyed the tune as much as he does.

“Thank you, that was ‘A Guy That I’d Kinda be Into’ from the musical Be More Chill. Thanks so much.”

With that, Lance heads straight for his seat and grabs his glass of water, downing half of it as Allura tells him how great he did and how excited the mice will be to see the recording. He still feels really warm, even out from under the stage lights. 

Like a man possessed, his eyes shift toward Keith. What the hell was in that damn ice cream? Lance is certain he’s been cursed to have his focus drawn to Keith at every inopportune moment, it’s the only explanation. Keith, of course, is already looking at Lance. Lance is pretty sure he’s overdosed on Keith eye contact tonight. Lethal levels of that sharp gaze. God, Lance has to get a hold of himself.

He turns to put his guitar back in his case, and he must have been responding to Allura this whole time because she doesn’t seem annoyed with him again. He turns back to the stage as the next performer introduces herself. Time to focus on the mission: finding his duet partner. Lance is determined to not look at Keith even once more tonight.

The last three performers are on and off the stage in no time, and the host is going over the details of the Duet Competition again for anyone who wasn’t here last week.

Lance knows who he’s going to ask to write with him. As soon as the host finishes up, he’s heading over to the girl who performed second-to-last: Nyma. She played an original song, and while her skills on her ukulele weren’t quite up to Lance’s instrumental abilities, she has a great voice and Lance feels like their writing styles will probably work together well. Plus, she’s gorgeous, but that’s just an added bonus.

The host thanks everyone for coming and asks for another round of applause for the performers, and Lance starts to rise from his seat, his most charming smile already on his face. He starts to the other side of the room where Nyma is chatting with the host, when suddenly he stops.

“Lance!”

Turning at his name, Lance finds himself face to face with Keith. Like, face to face. Keith must have sprung right out of his seat as soon as the host finished to be standing just a foot from Lance right now.

“Um,” Lance flounders a bit. When will Keith go back to acting normal?

“It’s good to see you feeling better. Hey Allura.” He nods to where ‘Lura is still seated at the table.

“Hello Keith, lovely to see you. Your performance was wonderful!”

Keith looks a little uncomfortable as he thanks her. Lance glances toward Nyma, she’s gathering her things like she’s about to head to the door.

“Yeah, thanks man, I’m feeling a lot better. Nice seeing you.” Lance makes to catch Nyma before she leaves, but he feels a hand on his elbow.

“Actually, I need to ask you something, if you have a minute?”

Lance stares at the long pale fingers gently touching his arm. The fingers lead to a wrist, to an arm, to a shoulder that is indeed attached to Keith.

“Uh- yeah I- what do you- what?”

Keith removes his fingers from Lance’s arm and his brain finally restarts.

“I was just wondering,” Keith clears his throat, “I was wondering if you were going to sign up for the Duet Competition?”

At the mention of the competition, Lance finally shakes off whatever just happened to him, popping his hand on his hip confidently and sending Keith a smirk.

“Oh, I am _winning_ the Duet Competition.”

“That so?” Keith matches Lance’s smirk with a deadly one of his own. And wow, are they messing with the stage lights again? Lance doesn’t turn around to check. “Then I guess you’ll need me on your team.”

“Yeah well, we’ll just see—wait what?”

“Do you have a partner yet?”

“You think that we should partner up for the Duet Competition? You and me? Write a song together?”

“If you want to win.”

“Of course I want to win!” Lance doesn’t know when they got so close together, but suddenly both of them are leaning toward the other and Lance sure as hell won’t be the first to back down.

“Good. Here, we’ll figure out the details later. See ya.” Keith shoves a piece of paper into Lance’s hand and then gives Allura a quick wave before heading out the door.

Lance rocks backward as soon as Keith breaks from their showdown, brain still trying to catch up with what the heck happened in the last five minutes. He looks down at the paper in his hand and sees a phone number scrawled across it.

“What the cheese?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the song Lance performed again: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPe-GnVVTpE&list=LL&index=48
> 
> Sorry this chapter took a bit. To be honest, now that we're past Keith finding out Lance is L, my vision for this fic is very vague.....so motivation to work past the writer's block in the form of kudos and comments are greatly appreciated 🙏🙏🙏 The lovely comments so far are definitely what got this chapter out of me. Thank you! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Here are Keith and Lance's songs again.
> 
> Keith's song: https://youtu.be/k4wXcyV3hI0 A Song to Exist To by Going Spaceward  
> Lance's song: https://youtu.be/8m5eXpJn1B8 I Don't Wanna Be In Love Anymore by Yad Zamani
> 
> I know I wrote the boys as having some insecurities over these songs, but I honestly love them both, I think they are great. I hope you give them a listen!
> 
> So I'm a songwriter, and the open mic in this is 100% based off the one I used to go to before, ya know, everything, and I didn't realize how much writing this would make me miss it but I definitely got so many feels from this.
> 
> I hope you like what I've got so far! I think this is gonna be a lot of fun, so I hope you stick around!


End file.
